How Few Remain
by Lein
Summary: A reunion for Mystery Inc could prove to be their last
1. Chapter 1

This story is dedicated to the Eternal Memory of my dear cat 'Smokey.'

**(October, 5 1987 - July, 16 2003)******

**_"You'll Always Be In My Hart, Girl."_**

_Now twenty years have passed away,_

_Since I here bid farewell_

_To woods, and fields, and scenes of play_

_And school-mates loved so well._

_Where many were, how few remain_

_Of old familiar things!_

_But seeing these to mind again_

_The lost and absent brings._

_The friends I left that parting day -_

_How changed, as time has sped!_

_Young childhood grown, strong manhood gray,_

_And half of all are dead._

**-**ABRAHAM LINCOLN

"My childhood Home I See Again."

(1846), stanzas 6-8

"**HOW FEW REMAIN**"

By Lein

**_Authors note:_**_ This story was inspired by events in "The Scooby-Doo Movie," and "Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island." _

**2002**

The hall is silent, as the 52 year-old man who has been head of the customs department at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport for 25 years steps to the podium. Norville Rodgers looks at the solid gold pocket watch in his hands. 

He holds the watch up for all to see. "Nice watch," he says. A few chuckles rise from the audience, as he pulls out a pair of board-rimed spectacles, and from his black coat, and a speech. The spotlight brightens on him, as he clears his throat.

"Ah-hem, Ladies and gentlemen… It is my pleasure to introduce you to your new Chief-Customs Inspector. Ellen Yindle."

Rodgers points to a lady in her early forties just of the stage. She raises one hand, and folds her arms again. The spot light swings back to Rodgers.

"I do not envy her. The job has few rewards. The best you can hope for is that when you're finished with it, things aren't as lousy as they would've been without you. Ellen Yindel is eminently qualified for this job. To attempt to quote her outstanding record in the minutes I'm allowed would be a disservice to her. Rather, I offer my sympathy, in the knowledge of what she faces."

He cleared his throat more loudly this time, and took a drink from the water glass provided.

"Because of the recent events of September 11, she'll have more than her fare share cut out for her. She'll have to face terrorists, drug smugglers, petty thieves, and people who just haven't got a clue. She faces decisions that will decide the lives of hundreds, maybe even thousands or people, for every hour to come."

He makes a quick side glance over at Yindle. To his expectations, she hasn't flinched.

"There will be moments when this job seems like hell, and there are moments when it has its rewards."

He paused in mid sentence, as his mind floated back to a happier time.

"But I'm sure she'll make the right decisions. Or I would never have recommended her for the job."

Laugher fills the audience.

"I can only wish her well. I have made many friends here, and I've seen people come and go, people rise through the ranks. It'll be painful to see you all go, but that is life, things come, and things go." 

Rodgers bit his lip, as he held back a tear, trying hard not to cry at the memory that had just serviced.

"Thank you – and good-bye." 

There is a standing applause for Mr. Rodgers as he leaves the stage. He walked over to Ms. Yindle, shakes her hand, and walks of backstage. He can here her voice, bombing out through the microphone, as she takes to the podium to deliver her speech.

Her words mean little to him. As she speaks, his mind is else wear. In the darkness of the backstage area, he sheds a tear. Then, it hits him like a ton of bricks, as he choked on his breath.

He half collapsed against the wall, covering his eyes with his free hand while grasping hold of a curtain rope with the other. It took him a full minute to bring himself under control, as he pulled out a hanky, and whipped his eyes with it. He brought his breathing under control, as he stood once more.

He took a few deep breaths, blinking out the blurriness, he started towards the exit. It was raining outside as he opened the door. He looked up at the darkened night sky, and shook his head.

His dark green '88 Ford was still were he'd left it. He held the nights program sheet above his head, as he dashed across to the car, climbed inside, and tossing the watch onto the passengers seat beside him, he started up the engine, and pulled out of the parking lot.

He pulled up at a set of lights, and leant back into the drivers seat. He sighed, as he tried to concentrate on the sounds in the car. The tick, tick, ticking of the cars clock. The putting of the engine as it sat in neutral, the thiwwping of windscreen wipers, and the steady drumming of rain on the roof.

He groaned loudly, as he looked about him. Just beside him, was an advertisement for jewelry. A man holding a woman's hand, and on her middle finger, was a ring with a pretty looking diamond in the middle.

The caption read, 'Friendship is forever, and so are diamonds. Say you love her with a "Jason Damon Jeweler's" Ring.'

Shaggy smiled slightly, as he read the one line that caught his eye. 'Friendship is forever.' His smile broadened to show some teeth, as he thought of the good old days.

Just then, the light changed back to green. Rodgers failed to see this, until a flashy looking sports car came up, and bleared its horn at him. Rodgers nearly jumped, as he glanced up at the light, to see it burning bright green. He started forward, but quickly slammed on the brakes.

The sports car behind him screeched on its brakes. Bleared its horn again, swerved around him, and roared of down the street. Rodgers never paid it any heed. He then pulled hard right on the wheel, and pumped on the gas, as he sped of down a different road.

Lighting lit up the night sky, and the thunderclap that followed nearly made Rodgers jump, and he nearly lost control of the car. A few turns later, took him out of the residential area of Seattle, and onto a dirt road. He eased of the accelerator a fraction, just as the car careened over a slight raised section of the road, sending the vehicle into the air for a split second, before bouncing back down on the road with a shuddering jolt. 

Staring forward, past the flick, flick, flick of the windshield wipers, Rodgers saw the black silhouette of a clear top hill, looming in the distance, and he eased of the accelerator, slowing down. As he did so, the headlights flashed upon a blue arrow sign with white writing on it. The sign read, 'PARKING' and pointed of the right. 

Rodgers brought the car down into first gear, and pulled hard on the wheel, and immediately putting it into second, as he drove up a steep gravel hill, and into a cemented parking area, with a corrugated iron roof.

Stepping out, he popped the boot. Inside, lay a black torch, and an umbrella, which he pulled out. Then, grabbing the torch, he headed out into the pouring rain. 

He followed the gravel path up the hill, towards the top. At the top, he stepped of the track, and into the forest on the right, facing the city. He climbed up a step hillside, groaning as his back reminded him of his age.

Finally, at the top of the hill, he stopped to take a deep breath. He glanced up. He smiled a simple smile. They were still there. Beneath a tall tree, over looking the city, where two small white colored wooden planks.

Sighing happily, he walked over to the tree, and looked down at the two planks. The one on the left read, 

**"Scooberb 'Scooby' Doo: February 19th 1966 – October 25th 1981" **

The one beside that read,

**"Scrappy Cornelius Doo: June 5th 1973 – December 23rd 1987"**

A small stifled chuckle escaped his lips, as he stood there, just before the two graves. He lowered his gaze to the wet grass at his feet, as he blinked back the tears, fighting their way to the surface.

"Hey Scooby," he said in a small voice. "How ya been?" The grave marker did not answer. He blinked a few times as his vision blurred. "Scrappy? It's nice to see you too."

He coughed loudly, a sound that was half way between a cough, and a sob. He rubbed his nose with the hanky, and pulled out his pocket watch. His retirement present.

"How am I handling? They retired me three days ago," he muttered, "25 years of service and what do they give me? A pat on the back, and a watch." He thumbed the switch, that opened the watches case, and the clocks face stared back at him. On the inside of the cover, was a picture of when he'd first made Chief Inspector. On the picture, someone had written with a black pen, in very small writing, 

"So long, Shaggy, we will miss you." 

He closed the cover of the watch with a loud click, and he quickly looked away, towards the many blinking lights of the city below. 

He hardly began to notice when he was shedding tears. He began to see the lights go blurry, and he realized. He blinked the tears out of his eyes, and turned back once more to the graves.

During their final days together, Scooby and Shaggy always came up to this very point of the hills. They loved to come up here and watch the sun set over the city. Scooby had always wanted to be buried here someday, when he died.

Then, when Scooby could no longer make the journey up the hilltop anymore, Scrappy had joined him. Sure Scrappy had been a cancer on societies, and his backside most of the times, but he was family, and family always stuck together. 

Then, when it was just him and Scrappy, he'd grown closer to puppy than he'd ever done in the years he'd spent on the road with him. He actually grew to love him, like he were Scooby.

He heard a low sob, and realized it's come from his own throat. He covered his eyes with his hand.

"God, I really miss you guys," he sobbed out. He looked down at the watch in his hands. He then reached up, and placed the watch in the over handing branches of the tree. "I just needed to be with my real friends, tonight." Rodgers said to the graves. "I'm retired now, and I've just begun to realize that I'm not going to be around forever. I've already passed my half century, and I'm officially a senior citizen on a pension."

He scoffed at the title. Senior citizen. 

"And to think, I was at Woodstock." He chuckled. "Do you remember that day Scoob? We ate so many hot dogs and those bikers thought we were sideshow attractions. Ahh man." He shook his head, and looked back towards the city. "Those were the best fifteen years of my life I spent with you, buddy. I wouldn't trade them for anything else in the whole world."

He turned to the other grave.

"Scrappy, you were there for me in those years I spent without Scooby. For that, I owe you more than you ever can imagine. You helped me in those days after Scooby left us. You became my dear friend."

He chocked off as he whipped the tears away welling in his eyes. Nobody had been there for him when Scrappy was gone. For weeks he'd just mopped about the office, moving from one location to the next, acting like a zombie.

It'd nearly cost him his job. However, he went to get help, the shrink he went and saw helped him get over it. Now look at him.

No Job. No friends. Nothing. Once again, he was all alone.

He burst into tears before he knew what was happening. His knees buckled and he felt wet grass soaking his legs through his trousers, and he felt dirt beneath his hands. The umbrella fluttered to the ground, and the rain soaked him through to the bone.

He didn't care. He knelt there, before the two graves, crying like he'd never cried before. Spitting out sobs, until he couldn't breath, and for one split second, he thought he'd choke.

He clutched his chest, as he tried to regain his breath. 

For what seemed like hours, he lay there, on his knees, clutching his chest, soaking wet, in the pouring rain.

He had to go home.

Slowly, muscles aching, he clambered to his feet, and smiling at the graves, started back down the hill, towards the gravel path, that lead back to his car.

He felt the car seat beneath him start to warm him up, as he closed the car door once inside. He sighed heavily, as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of the car.

Maybe he should've retired much longer ago. One corner of his mouth went up slightly. He'd spent a night of celebration into his own personal sob story. That's not what Scooby would do. What would that mutt do if he were here right now?

Ro ret a rizza!

Shaggy chuckled to himself. He looked out the rain slick window, towards the hilltop. "Thanks guys," he whispered. "Thanks for being my friend." Then popping the car into reverse, and pulling out, he put it into first gear, and took of towards home.

**THE NEXT MORNING…**

Norville Rodgers walked down the old wooden steps of his house, and took the short but painful trip down his driveway to the mailbox in front of his house. The man on the bike nodded to him, and sped off to the next house.

Today was going to be a good day. He was sure of it. The shrink he'd seen all those years ago, had told him that if a day was going badly, what could he do to make it go his way. To look at the situation, and see what he could do, to make it a good day. He was retired, and now intended to have fun for once in his life.

Rodgers reached his mailbox, and opened the box. There was the usual. Bills. Bills. Bills. He sighed heavily, as he started back to the house, but as he reached his front door, he noticed one strange white envelope, with a red wax seal holding it closed. 

Rodgers narrowed his eyes. The seal had VVG on it. He raised an eyebrow as he opened the door and went into the kitchen. Sitting down at his table, he grabbed a butter knife from the kitchen sink, and ripped open the letter.

The letter was hand written with black ink dip pen, not a biro. What grabbed his attention was some one had written in large letters 'SHAGGY' at the very top. He scratched the white bristles on his chin. Nobody had called him shaggy in nearly 20 years. He tossed the thought aside, and started reading the letter.

_'Shaggy, I hope you have received this letter, for it is most important that you do. First off, this is Flim-Flam.'_

Rodgers gaped as he read. Flim Flam? He hadn't spoken to that con artist in over 25 years. He chuckled silently to himself, and continued reading.

_'Inside the envelope, you should find plane tickets. I need you to take the next flight to Himalayans ASAP. Mr VanGhoul requests your presence at once. I cannot explain it to you now, and Mr VanGhoul will only speak directly to your face. Please hurry. Your pal, Flim-Flam.'_

Rodgers shook the envelope upside down, and sure enough, a plane ticket fell out and floated like a leaf towards the kitchen table below. He checked the date he'd be leaving. It was tomorrow. 

Humph, Flim-Flam didn't waist any time. 

But what surprised him even more, was who called for him. Mr. Vincent VanGhoul? Wow, the guy was still alive? How old was he now? 80? 90? He hadn't seen him in nearly 27 years. What was he doing? But more importantly, what did he want with him, after all these years? He and Scooby returned all 13 of the ghosts to that creepy chest.

So what did he want now?

He started waving the ticket up and down, like a fan, as he stared of into space. He started thinking about other things. A trip? A trip to the Himalayans? Why not. He deserved a vacation. He hadn't done much travelling since he Scooby got the job as custom inspectors at the Seattle international airport. 

They'd gone on trips when they'd saved up enough money, but when Scooby became to old to travel, Shaggy had stayed by his side till the end. The same with Scrappy. After Scrappy was gone, he pretty much never left the house, only to buy food, and go to work.

It was high time he got out, and had an adventure, just like the good old days, when he was part of Mystery Inc.

He shook his head once more. Mystery Inc. He hadn't seen the guys for quite some time. Nearly thirty years since they had last stood together. Fred, Daphne, Velma.

He looked back at the ticket. He'd have to get in contact with them again. With _all_ of them. Have a group reunion. It'd be fun.

He got up of his seat, and hurried upstairs. He'd have to pack in a hurry. He didn't have very much to pack, just a few change of clothes, underwear, and toilet utilities. The old worn leather travelling suitcase had just about had it. However, it wasn't as bulky as it used to be, when he and Scooby used to hide all manners of food in there.

He chuckled, pausing in mid packing. He'd bought this travel case not long before he, Scooby, and Scrappy settled down. After they'd collected all of the 13 ghosts, Daphne, went her separate way, and Flim-Flam went to live with Mr. VanGhoul. 

Then, it'd been just the 3 of them, Shaggy, Scooby, and Scrappy. God, it seems like a century since he'd last seen any of them. He paused, as he walked over to his dresser, and picked up a framed photo. It was a picture of the original cast of Mystery Inc. before Scrappy joined them.

He smiled. Fred and Daphne standing side-by-side, with Scooby in the centre, Velma on the other side, and Shaggy poised of to the side of Scooby, halfway between him and Daphne. 

He gently traced his fingers over Scooby, then, slowly, placed the picture down into his travel case, and placed some more clothes on top of it, so as not to get it damaged. 

After he'd finished packing, he hurried downstairs to the phone. Pulling out his little black book, he started dialling a few numbers. He hated giving people short notice, but he'd been given short notice as well. He'd need someone to look after his garden, his house, make sure the automatic light timers turned on, and so on, and so on.

Finally, he called 'Roomies Pizza' and ordered an extra large pizza, with 3 hamburger's, large fries, and a large shake. He smiled, putting down the phone.

Well, if he was going on an adventure, he might as well celebrate it in style, just like the good old days. Who knows what VanGhoul wanted him for, but he could hardly wait to find out.

He walked over to the fridge to get himself a snack while he waited for his pizza. Just like the good old days, he wasn't going to let himself starve.

He laughed out loud. He was really enjoying himself now. 

THE NEXT MORNING… 

The taxi arrived two minutes early. Shaggy had been still eating breakfast when the doorbell rang. "Coming," he replied with a mouthful of toast.

The cab driver was a short balding man a few years older than Rodgers. He spoke with a Russian accent. "You call a cab, my friend?" He looked down at the slip of paper in his stubby fingers. "This is 268 Duth Drive?"

Rodgers nodded. "That's me," he said, hurrying into the hallway. His travel case was still there. "I don't have much, just this, I'll be ready in a second."

The cabby took the case out to the cab, while Shaggy finished of the last of his breakfast. The cabby was waiting for him, as he hurried out the front door, making sure to lock the front door before he left.

The drive didn't take very long. Rodgers only lived about 20 minutes away from the airport. He paid the cabby his fare, and pulling his bag along with the extendable handle, he went to check himself in. 

"Mr. Rodgers?"

Shaggy turned his head at the sound of his name being called. It was Ellen Yindle.

"Hi Ellen," he replied, as he handed over his passport. "How are things?"

"Their fine, Mr. Rodgers…"

"Ellen," Shaggy replied, "I'm no longer your supervisor, could you please quit with the Mr thing, please?"

"Sorry Norville," Yindle replied. "It just seems a little weird, you know, not having to kiss up to your butt now,"

"Don't push it, Yindle," he replied with a chuckle, "I still know a few things about you."

She gave him a mock threatening glare, then chuckled herself. "It's good to see you smiling again, Noville," she replied, her voice softening, "I can't remember the last time I saw you smile."

"Life's thrown me a curve ball, just recently," Shaggy answered. He took back his things, and started walking towards the terminal, Yindle followed, keeping in step with him. 

"Anything I can help with?" She asked. 

Shaggy shook his head, not bothering to look at her, "Nope," he said, "It's just a surprise reunion with some old friends of mine."

"Mystery Inc?" She asked, her eyebrows perking.

"Close," he replied, "Just two friends I sheared my adventures with, before I came here." 

He could see that she opened her mouth to speak, probably to say Scooby and Scrappy – after all, she'd meet both of them – but realising their current status, she quickly halted herself. "Do I know them?" She said after a few moments pause.

"No, you wouldn't," Shaggy replied. Shaggy flashed his ticket to the inspector, and put his baggage on the X-Ray machine. "They both live in Nepal." Shaggy passed through the metal detector, while Yindle flashed the guards her security pass, and followed Shaggy through.

"Nepal?" She asked, as Shaggy collected his things, "Who is it, the Doli Lama?" One side of Shaggy's mouth turned up slightly, as he thought for a moment.

"I wouldn't be surprised." He said after a second. They said nothing more, until they reached the gate. Passengers were lining up, and presenting their tickets to flight attendants. Shaggy stepped in line, with Yindle beside him.

"Why did you leave the celebration early last night?" Yindle finally asked.

Shaggy sighed heavily, "I just didn't feel like being surrounded by people, that's all," he lied. 

"You're lying, Norville," she said, without looking at him, "I know you too well."

"I was alone," Shaggy said bluntly. "I had no job, no friends, I was all alone," he bit his lips, "I couldn't stand being alone, so I went to visit some old friends." They were nearing the flight attendants.

Yindle just nodded, she knew whom he meant. "But what about me?" She asked. 

"What do you mean," Shaggy asked.

"Aren't I your friend, too?" 

"Tickets?" A young lady asked. Shaggy handed her his ticket, she ran it through the machine. It beeped with approval, and she turned to Yindle.

"I'm not a passenger," she said. 

"I guess this is good-bye, then," Shaggy said, holding out his hand. Ynidle looked down at it, and slowly extended hers. They shook, and Shaggy turned around and headed down the corridor to the plane.

"Have a nice trip!" Yindle called out. Shaggy turned back to wave, then, she was gone. 

NEPAL: 'TAPLEJUNG' 2 DAYS LATER… 

It was raining when he finally reached his destination. The train shuddered as it crossed the points into the city and the rain ran in streams across the window. Around him the other passengers rose and shook the creases from their clothes. To his left the elderly couple with whom he had shared a compartment with, smiled their goodbyes to him; he stood up and help them with their case. 

There was a hiss of steam and the train pulled into the station. Rodgers opened the door, stepped down and looked around him. people were everywhere, getting onto the train, leaving, or meeting those who'd just gotten off. Clutching his travel case, he walked off to find his luggage.

To his right, the elderly couple were embracing a son and daughter-in-law, hugging a grandchild they had not seen for two years. Norville Rodgers let a half smile escape his lips as he watched the loving reunion, before heading over to the porters.

After receiving his luggage, Rodgers then payed a porter to carry his two suit cases out to the front, where he flagged down a cab. Using the newspaper in one hand as a makeshift umbrella, he quickly dashed over to the cab, tipped the young man, and quickly sealed himself inside the warm dry inside of the taxi.

"Where to, sir?" The drive asked.

"The Star Hotel." He said. The driver nodded, and pulled out into the driving traffic. 

Despite what travel agents have told him, the traffic in town wasn't actually that bad. It might have been a slow day, or the rain, but it there was hardly a car on the streets. The driver quickly got to the hotel, and Rodgers payed the fair, before quickly rushing up the steps, with a very wet bellboy behind him.

The foyer of the hotel was busy. He checked in, and then went to the room on the fourth floor, the bellboy arriving with his two cases almost immediately. He tipped the man, locked the door, went to the bathroom, stripped, turned on the shower and stood beneath it, working on the plans he had to make. 

VanGhoul's Castle was at least half a day's journey out from this place. This was the closet he could get to town where VanGhoul lived. He'd have to hire some sort of transport, most likely a land cruiser, and take a back road out to this place.

He exited the shower, and put on a bath rob. He sat down, and turned on the TV.

" ----In a late braking story, Scientists still have no explanations as to the bizarre weather patterns affecting the Asian continent. Many attribute this phenomenon to Global Warming, although some dismiss this theory as utter rubbish."

The newscaster shuffled a few papers, and was handed something from off screen.

"Oh. This just in, Weather control are asking citizens in the northeastern region of Nepal to beware. Late this morning, an unconfirmed sighting of heavy storm clouds were spotted moving over Tibet. Local authorities are asking everyone NOT to try anything foolish, and to cancel all travel plans you might have until the all clear can be given. In other news...."

Rodgers looked up from the TV as the telephone rang interrupted his thoughts.

"Who is it?" He said as he picked it up.

"This is the front desk, sir," the voice said, "There's a parcel that has just arrived for you." Rodgers raised an eyebrow.

"Huh? I'm not expecting any package." There was a slight pause, while he checked over it again, before the man spoke up again.

"Well, there's a parcel here for a Mr. Norville Rodgers, and you're the only one here, answering to that name...."

"Alright, alright!" Rodgers said. "I'll come pick it up." He placed the phone down, and pulling on some shorts, exited his room, and headed down to the front desk.

The guy behind the front desk was busy talking with a guest when Rodgers arrived. He motioned for him to wait for a few moments, while he finished regestrating the guest.

Finally, he ducked down out of view, and reappeared with a large laptop sized package wrapped in dark brown butcher paper. It was neatly tied up in thick string, with a white envelope attached to it.

"Who sent it?" Rodgers asked, walking over to the desk.

The man shrugged. "It just arrived with the mail."

Hmmm, who ever it was, sure had great timing. He looked at the envelope. His old nick name was scrawled across it. Shaggy. He headed back for his room, with a pretty good idea who it was from.

THE NEXT MORNING… 

Rodger's passed though two more settlements on the way back to VanGhoul's castle. Neither was large, little more than villages. Too small to warrant much of 21st century technology.

Of course he drew stares as he passed. Villagers - farmers and 

merchants and tradesmen - stared as the jeep slowed to a crawl to pass through their hamlets. Probably the only exciting thing to happen to them for some time. Even kids were reluctant to trail behind him. How long has it been since technology passed through this area? Hell, there were still areas like this back in the States.

Each time he left the boundaries of the towns Rodger's would put his 

foot down in a surge of acceleration. He looked back down at the brown paper parcel on the seat beside him, with the – now opened – letter atop it. 

The letter had been from Flim-Flam. The letter instructed him not to open the parcel just yet, just to take it with him, and have it ready for his meeting with Mr. VanGhoul.

Damnation! What was so damned important to drag him halfway around the world to tell him something that couldn't be explained over the telephone, or fax. Hell, why not the internet? Well, one way or another, he'd find out what it was soon.

His eyes slid down to the brown paper parcel on the seat beside him. However, what the hell was in that parcel? It felt like a book.

Finally he topped one last rise, and slowed the jeep to a stop.

The town sat beside the mountain range that was part of the seemingly endless, Himalayans. The towers of the castle looming over it. Massive guardians of granite. Several errant beams of sunlight flickered through the heavy cloud, spearing down upon the town and spotlighting it in patches of shifting light.

"Well, here I am VanGhoul," Rodgers finally said after a stark silence, "What the hell have you got installed for me this time?" Staring at the sprawling edifice and the dark skies behind the castle, he couldn't help but smile at the effect it produced. 

"Is Dracula in?" He said with a stifled chuckle.

There was hardly anybody out of the streets as Rodgers drove through the town. The last time he'd been here, was the return that damn chest. The people had been grateful for recapturing the ghosts, and there had been a full parade of honour for the gang as the town's people carried them on their shoulders all the way to the castle.

Now, there was hardly a soul.

Something like this would have freaked him out when he was younger, but age had mellowed him out, and now it would take something of mass proportion to scare him. 

No, he was not scared. Just a little curious.

Those who were out of the streets just gave him a two second glance, before continuing with whatever it was they were doing. Shaggy crawled along in second gear, eyes sliding from one side of the street, to the other. Then, not before long, he left the town behind him, as was driving up the narrow frozen muddy road, towards the castle of his destination. 

No one was there to great him. Rodgers just pulled up a few feet from the castle entrance, and turned off the motor. He just sat in the car for a minute, just staring at the double doors, as if expecting someone to open it.

No one did.

Finally, he grabbed the brown parcel, and stepping out into the cold snowy air, made his way over to the front door.

He banged the doorknockers three times; then waited. He could here the sound of shoes hitting stone floors, echoing throughout the castle. They drew closer, until there was the sound of a wooden bolt sliding against metal, and the door opened. 

A man in his late 30's early 40's – it was too hard to tell – opened the door. He had short, almost jet-black hair and wearing a blue robe. He had a shortened moustache that reminded him so much of VanGhoul's. 

In fact, the guy looked like a younger version of the wizard himself.

The man smiled. "Shaggy?" He asked.

Rodger's narrowed his eyes, "do I know you?" He asked.

"That would depend on weather you have Lotts'a Luck." Rodger's stared hard at the man, then his eyes widened.

"Flim-Flam?"

"Hi Shaggy," he replied, "Long time no see." 

Rodgers just stood there, opened mouthed, as he gaped at a person he'd not seen for quite some time. Before he knew it, his vision was all blurry. There were tears in his eyes, as he suddenly threw his arms around Flim-Flam, and hugged him for all he was worth.

Shaggy was slightly aware that he was laughing, as he clung on for dear life. He finally let go, to take a step back to observe his long lost friend.

"It's good to see you again, Flim-Flam," he said, gripping his arms, "But what in the name of God Almighty, have you done to your self?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean!?!" Shaggy cried out, "Well… Just look at you!"

"What about me?"

"You look like VanGhoul, for crying out loud!"

"A long time training with that guy, and let's see how _you_ turn out!" Flim-Flam said back. "Speaking of change, at least you shaved off that stupid goatee."

"What was wrong with my goatee?" Shaggy asked.

"It looked like a prickle bush stuck onto the edge of your chin, that's what."

Shaggy raised his fist in mock anger. "Why you…" he chuckled with a large toothy smile plastered on his face, and the two friends hugged each other once more.

Finally, Flim-Flam broke the bonding, and ushered Shaggy inside, and then closed the door with a loud bang that echoed all around the enormous room. "VanGhould is waiting for you upstairs, come on, he doesn't like to be kept waiting at his age these days."

Shaggy's face took on a look of seriousness, "Say," he said, as Flim-Flam led him up the stone stairs with the velvet rug, "What dose the old geezer want with me anyway?"

"The _old geezer_, as you put it, Shaggy, will tell you everything once you're there," Flim-Flam said, without turning back. Shaggy just only nodded, as his mind contemplated what Flim-Flam had just said. He didn't sound to thrilled at Shaggy's name for VanGhoul.

"You've developed a lotta respect for the old guy, haven't you?" Flim-Flam nodded, this time turning back to face Shaggy, as they reached the top of the stairs.

"I never knew what it was like to be a normal boy, Shaggy," he said. "You guys, you were like a family to me, you, Scooby, and Scrappy, were my brothers and Daphne was my sister." He sighed heavily, "But I never really had any parental figures. VanGhoul was not only my teacher, and mentor," he gave a small smile, like someone who's just seen a beautiful sunrise, "He became my father, too."

Shaggy just nodded, and there was a moment of silence, before Flim-Flam started off down a corridor, with Shaggy following behind. Torches kept the corridors full of light, as they travelled past the many doors, ascended a few stairs, and finally, came to what was most likely, the attic. 

The last flight of stairs led to the very top of the castle. At the top of the stairs, was a single corridor, with lit torches, that led to a grand set of double doors at the end, with a shield, and the letters 'VG' on a shield, that reminded Shaggy of the Wanner Brothers logo.

They stopped before the double doors, and Flim-Flam banged twice on the doors, before stepping back. 

"This is as far as I go, Shaggy," he said, "VanGhoul wishes to speak with you alone." Then, Flim-Flam headed back down the corridor, and disappeared down the winding staircase.

The double doors interrupted his thoughts, as they slowly creaked open. If he were younger, he would have jumped right into Scooby's arms, or vis versa. However, he didn't bat an eyelid. One corner of his mouth rose ever so slightly, and he slowly, walked inside the room.

Just as slowly as they'd opened, they closed behind him with a dull click. The room seemed to scream of medieval Europe. The tapestries that covered the walls, the huge pain glass window directly opposite Shaggy, allowing the sunlight to shine in through.

But no sun shone. And in the far end of the room, lay a bed, on raised steps. Lying in that bed was a frail old man that he instantly recognised.

Vincent VanGhoul.

The man was old. His once dark black hair, that had the small stripe of silver around the bottom, was completely white, not grey, white, along with his bushy moustache. His face was covered in wrinkles, and his eyes looked sunken. His hands were frail, and looked gnarled, and along with the constant rise and fall of his chest, Shaggy could here the horse-breathing coming from the old man. 

Looking over at the old man, Shaggy didn't feel as old as he should. He seemed like a young man again in comparison. Slowly, he licked his lips, and called out, "Mr. VanGhoul?"

The eyes cracked open, and slid over to look at Shaggy. "Welcome back, Shaggy," he said in a crackled voice. "Please, come over to me."

Shaggy walked over to the bedside, to where a wooden stool with a red cushion on it lay. He walked up the three steps, and sat down, next to the aging wizard. "Yes, Mr. VanGhoul?" Shaggy asked. "I am here? What is it you wanted me to know?"

"First of, Shaggy," the wizard rasped, "It's good to see you again." 

Shaggy smiled. "Its good to see you too, sir," he said, "You look… well."

VanGhoul's frail hand shook as it rose of the bed, and grasped Shaggy's hand. "I'm not as well as you think I am, Shaggy," he said with a weak smile. "Tell me, how old do you think I am?"

One eyebrow rose, as Shaggy contemplated the reason for this question. "Excuse me?"

"How old do you think I am?" VanGhoul asked.

Shaggy scratched his bristled chin. "All right, Umm… I guess, 82?"

A small chuckle escaped the old mans lips. "I'm actually 134 years old, Shaggy." This caught Shaggy by surprise.

"What!?!" He cried out, latterly reeling back. VanGhoul's hand squeezed Shaggy's.

"Do you have the parcel I sent you?" Shaggy brought it up in front of him, so that VanGhoul could easily see it.

"So, that was you, huh?" Shaggy said, looking down at the parcel in his hands. VanGhoul let go of Shaggy's hand, and pointed to the parcel with a shaky finger.

"Open it." He said. Without a telltale glance, Shaggy tore apart the brown paper parcel, letting the shredded remains float to the lovely floor below. VanGhoul didn't seem to mind, or care.

It was a leather bound book. It was held shut by a brass buckle, and leather strap. On the front cover, was one simple word.

'Life.'

"I… don't understand?" Shaggy said, holding the book up for him to see. 

"I cannot escape time forever, Shaggy," VanGhoul replied. "The herbs and roots and potions I used, cannot rejuvenate a dying spirit forever. I will die soon."

"I…" VanGhoul suddenly gripped Shaggy's hand with more strength than humanly possible. The grip was like a vice, tightening, almost crushing Shaggy's hand.

"It's not about understanding, Shaggy," VanGhoul rasped, "It's about fate, about timing, destiny!" The strength in VanGhoul's hand suddenly withered away, and he let go. "Sometimes, life choses our destinies for us, Shaggy. It can sometimes be filled with great joy, and sometimes be filled with great misery, but in the end, if you have hope, things will always work out!"

Okay! Shaggy was finding it very hard to take all this seriously. He'd been called halfway around the world for this? God, the guy sounded like Yoda, in fact, what was he going to tell him next? Use the force? Heaven forbid!

"Shaggy!" VanGhoul snapped. "Pay attention!"

"I'm finding it very hard to," Shaggy said, "All you talk about is destiny! What destiny? What is going to happen? In fact, what the hell _is_ happening? I haven't gotten one straight answer out of any of you guys, ever since I got here!"

"Shaggy, listen," VanGhoul croaked, "The fate of the world hangs in the balance!"

"Oh no, not this again," Shaggy moaned, covering his eyes, "Look, Mr VanGhoul, if you've called me here, just to save the world again, you're asking the wrong guy. And I'll give you three reasons." He then held up three fingers, and counted each one down as he made his points. "One, I'm not a detective. Two, I ain't the freak'n Ghostbusters, and Three, I'm too damn old!" He lowered his hand, as he sighed heavily. "I stopped chasing ghosts twenty-five years ago, Mr. VanGhoul, I'm in no condition to start that up all over again."

"Shaggy!" VanGhoul warned. "You haven't changed in twenty-seven years. You were impatient then, and you're impatient now!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. VanGhoul, it's just that…"

"Just shut up and listen," VanGhoul rasped. "Events are sparling out of control, too fast for me to handle at may age." He took a few deep breaths. 

"This doesn't have anything to do with a certain chest, dose it?" Shaggy questioned, rasing one eyebrow.

"It will, if events keep progressing the way they are."

"Mr. VanGhoul," Shaggy pleaded, "Please, just tell me what's going on!"

"All in good time, Shaggy," He rasped in reply, "But for the moment, I ask, that you hold onto that book with your life." He reached up and grasped Shaggy's right hand in that vice like grip of his, and stared directly into his eyes. "Norville Rodgers, promise me this," he croaked, "Never let go of that book, never let it out of your sight! Don't give it to anyone, and don't try to hide it! As long as you have that book, mankind is safe!" Then, he let go.

Shaggy's eyes widened. That was the first time VanGhoul had ever called him by his proper name before. He then found himself looking at the book in his hands.

What the hell was so important about this damn book!?!

"If it's so important to keep it close to my hart, why did you mail it to me at the hotel?"

"I have many servants, Shaggy," VanGhoul replied, "They carried it only so far, to get it to you. I can no longer keep it protected within these castle walls. It's now up to you to keep it safe."

"Safe? From whom?" Shaggy asked. "You're the most powerful wizard I've ever meet, in fact, you're the only wizard I've ever meet! Who is after this book!?!"

"Evil," VanGhoul croaked, "An ancient evil, so powerful, and so great, that not even my magic can hope to defeat him."

"Oh, and how, dear I ask, am I supposed to protect _this_ book from _that_ evil presence?"

"All will be explained in time, Shaggy," VanGhoul said, "All in due time."

Shaggy had given up trying to get any straight answers from VanGhoul. It looks like that his powers were not the only thing that seems to have deserted the senile old man. But Shaggy dared not make his thoughts vocal. 

"So, what happens next?" He asked. "Or do I have to find that out too?"

"Shaggy," VanGhoul warned, "Would you please take this seriously!"

"I know, I know," Shaggy replied, rolling his eyes, "The fate of the entire world is at stake, you told me before, and I'm telling you again, I'm not Indian Jones, I'm not Merlin, and I'm defiantly not Superman! I'm just plain old Norville Rodgers, no one else!"

VanGhoul stared at him hard. "You were never like that when you were younger, Shaggy."

"That was a whole other life time ago, Mr VanGhoul," said Shaggy. "Times have changed. I have changed!"

VanGhoul made no movement. "I can see that for myself."

"My spirit of adventure has passed on, Mr VanGhoul; my get up and go, got up and went 25 years ago! When it was just Scooby, Scrappy, and myself, out on the open road, that was a whole barrel of fun! Travelling all over the world, seeing all the sights there are to see, having the time of our lives! But as time ticks on, you see everything there is to see, and soon, there are no more mysteries to solve, no more secrets to uncover, until you wake up one day, and realise there's nothing left to do. You've done it all."

"You came here, didn't you?" VanGhoul replied.

"I…" Shaggy paused.

"You know, Shaggy," VanGhoul replied, with a smirk, "You really have changed. You never used to come up with excuses about not taking on spooky assignments. You always used to flat out refuse."

"I…" Shaggy was at a loss for words. No, it wasn't possible. He wasn't still that scaredy cat gangly teen! That part of him died years ago! 

"Some things about us never change, Shaggy," VanGhoul said, taking his hand gently, "No mater how much we try."

Shaggy just let his head drop. His gaze focused on the floor, and his shoes. He was still a coward at hart. Only this time, Scooby wasn't around to shiver along with him. "I… I'm scared, Mr VanGhoul," Shaggy confessed. "You're right about everything, as usual. I did come over to Nepal looking for another adventure. One more chance to solve another mystery, before I end up in a retirement home."

VanGhoul smiled. "Even grown men, are allowed to be scared, Shaggy."

"So what do you want me to do?" Shaggy asked, lifting his head up to look at VanGhoul once more.

"Just keep the book safe, Shaggy," He replied. Take it back home, and keep it safe. All will be explained in time, but in the meantime, just keep the book in your sights."

Shaggy looked down at the book once more, then gently squeezed VanGhoul's hand in response, and nodded. "I will," he promised.

VanGhoul slowly nodded his head, then let go of Shaggy's hand, and leant back in his bed. "Now, you must go, Shaggy!"

"What?" Shaggy cried out, "But I just got here!"

"Please, Shaggy, don't argue!" VanGhoul snapped. "Already, the forces of darkness gather, you have to leave before it's too late!"

Shaggy looked from the old man, to the book, and back again. He sighed, and nodded. He stood up, and looked down at the old mans face. He suddenly seemed older than when he'd first seen him just a few minutes ago. "Will I ever see you again?" Shaggy asked.

"You will see," VanGhoul simply replied. "You will see." Suddenly, doors leading out of the room, opened, and Shaggy whirled around to see them open. "Now, go!"

Shaggy looked back at VanGhoul, then to the book in his hands. He reached down, and patted the old mans right shoulder. "It was good to see you again, Mr. VanGhoul."

"It's always a pleasure seeing your face, Shaggy," VanGhoul replied. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. "Hurry!"

Shaggy turned around, and half jogged, and half walked out of the room. He started to jog down the corridor, towards the stairs, not looking back as the sound of the doors closing behind him echoed all around the walls.

He hurried down the steps, and through the castle, following the exact footsteps he'd taken with Flim-Flam.

Flim-Flam. The guy was no were to be seen. Shaggy kept on jogging, calling out his name, and each time receiving no response. Finally, he arrived at the top of the last staircase, and down below, the large wooden door that led outside.

The door lay wide open.

He rushed down the stairs as fast as his age allowed him, and hurried out the front door.

It was a blizzard outside. Snow was blowing everywhere, and Shaggy felt the stinging cold blast him in the face. He pulled up the collars of his parker, for some protection, as he stumbled through the roaring winds, towards his land cruiser. 

He ripped open the door, and climbed inside. Then shutting the door placed the book inside his jacket. No one would be able to get it in there. He then stuck the key into the ignition, and turned.

He was rewarded with the chocking reve of the engine, as it refused to turn over. "Come on!" He muttered, as he tried again, pumping on the gas peddle.

A few seconds later, the engine roared to life. He clapped his hands in triumph, and putting the jeep into first gear, pumped hard on the accelerator.

The tires spun briefly, before finding traction, and spinning hard on the wheel, turned the jeep around, and headed back towards civilization.

From the open doorway, Flim-Flam watched as the jeep vanished into the whirlwind of snow. He sighed, and then closed the door. Once closed, he shook the snow from his shoulders, and headed back up to VanGhoul's room.

The doors opened as he approached, and he walked on in over to the old mans side. "He has gone, Master." He replied. "And the book is with him."

VanGhoul sighed happily, and turned his eyes to face Flim-Flam. "And the defences?"

"They are ready, master," he said, "Everything is as you've ordered."

"Then help me!" He said, holding out his arm, "We must be ready for when they come!" Flim-Flam pulled back the sheets, and helped VanGhoul to stand. He reached to the bed beside him, and gave the old man a wooden walking stick.

Surprisingly, Vincent seemed to stand pretty well, for his age. Then, gaining his balance, Flim-Flam helped him out of the room, and into another part of the castle.

***

Shaggy swore numerous times, as the jeep skidded and slid across the road. He could barely see three feet in front of him, even with the high beams on.

He was stretched over the front of the wheel, trying to peer out into the gloomy darkness. He reached down, to turn the heater up to full blast. The wind wasn't that much cold before, but now, it felt like an artic wind straight of the ice.

He leaned down to blow on his hands, which were glued to the wheel. The window was snowing up, and the wipers were having a devil of a time trying to clear his vision.

Humph, those guys at the weather department weren't kidding when they told him he should've stayed indoors. However, he had a mission now, and he wasn't about to ride it out in a snowstorm. He'd get back to the hotel, and leave for home right away.

He subconsciously patted his coat pocket, still feeling the book there. He would have something to read on the trip home…

KA-THUMP!!

Something landed on the bonnet, before leaping right off.

"What the…!?!" Shaggy cried out, as he slammed on the brakes, and the jeep fishtailed, losing traction in an end-to-end spin, and for a horrified moment he thought he was going to smash into the rocky wall on the side of the road --- he knew he was going to smash --- and he spun the wheel frantically, and the jeep slid to a stop, the headlights just a foot from the solid rock wall.

He paused there, listening to the rhythmic flick of the wipers. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then peered out past the flicking wipers, into the snowy storm.

Something was out there. But it wasn't close. It stood forty feet away, at the edge of the illumination from the headlights. However, because of the millions of snowflakes, twirling and tumbling around, he could not make out anything more than a silhouette. 

It walked like a man, but it sure as hell wasn't. He could make out the glowing red eyes, and that was about it. The figure just stood there, staring at him with those eyes.

Suddenly, the words of VanGhoul played over in his mind.

"Already, the forces of darkness gather, you have to leave before it's too late!"

A scowl formed across Shaggy's face, as he popped the jeep into first. "Get the hell outta my way!" He snarled, and released the clutch, and slammed his foot down on the accelerator. Then bracing himself in the seat gunned the jeep right at the figure standing before him.

The figure just stood there, and when it looked like Shaggy would hit him, it leapt into the air, somersaulted over the top of the jeep, to land on both legs behind him, like an Olympic acrobat. Shaggy didn't bother to stop; he just kept his foot down, as he took off, leaving the figure behind him.

Shaggy tore off, but not before rolling down the window, so he could stick his arm out, to salute the man with his middle finger. Glancing back into his rear-view mirror, he caught the figure staring after him.

His eyes suddenly flashed, an intense red glow, before he was lost among the tumbling snowflakes. 

***


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO DAYS LATER…**

The weather was bad, and getting worse with every passing hour.  Shaggy had to travel further out of Nepal, to take a plane out of the country.  Even here, the skies were darkened on the horizon.  No rumbling of a storm, just dark clouds that looked nasty with every hour that grinded by.

Still, Shaggy couldn't help but wonder, what was happening?  What was going to happen?  Were VanGhoul and Flim-Flam all right?  And who the hell was the guy with the glowing eyes?

Questions, questions, and more questions.  It seemed every time he went looking for answers, he found a dump truck load of even more mind-boggling questions.

He patted his left jacket pocket, and sure enough, it as still there.  The flight attendant looked over his ticket, and pointed out his seat.  He lifted his bag up above his head, as he shuffled down the isle, looking out for children, young adults, and all manners of luggage that clogged the isle of the plane.

Finally, reaching his seat, he stored his travel bag in the overhead compartment, and sat down.  All around him, people were shuffling this way and that, calling out to relatives in all different types of languages.

He glanced out his window, at the bustling airport around him, then, his eyes drifted to the darkening skies of the background.  He frowned.  Everything would be explained in time?  When?  And more importantly, was he going to like what he'd find?

All this questioning and theories made his head hurt… and his stomach rumble.  Hmmmm.  He sure was hungry.  He got up, and pulled his travel bag down from the overhead compartment, and unzipped it.  He reached inside, and pulled out a long cylinder object, wrapped up in tinfoil.

Unwrapping it, revealed the foot long sub underneath, packed with ham, lettuce, cheese, onions, tomato, pickles, ketchup, mayonnaise, and at lest twelve different spices.  VanGhoul was right about one thing.  Some things never change.   

The sudden sound of the ding from overhead told Shaggy that the captain was going to make an announcement.

"Attention all passengers," the captain said, "Due to the sudden weather encroachment on the airport, we will be making a premature lift off.  I have to ask that everybody please switch off all electronic devices and place your tray tables and seats in the upright position."

There were a few murmurs, but bit-by-bit, everyone began to comply with the captain's demands.  Within fifteen minutes, they were all prepared to lift off.

Shaggy couldn't help to glance out of the window, as the plane taxied down the runway, gained speed, and then lifted of the ground, soaring into the air.

As the plane lifted of the ground, he gave a sidelong look at the storm gathering on the horizon.  For a split second, he saw he could've seen the image of a face, glaring angrily back at him.  The eyes flashed, and Shaggy jumped in his seat.  

He blinked, and saw lighting flashing in the distance.

He leaned back into his seat as the plane climbed higher still.  He sighed softly, and covered his face with his hands.

"I've gotta lay of those mid-night snacks," he muttered, re-wrapping his sandwich.  He placed the sandwich back into his bag, and then looked back out the window.

Nothing.

He snorted at that, and smiled, as he leaned back, turned on the lamp above his head, pulled out a paperback novel, and tried to enjoy the flight home.

***

Shaggy sat in the back of the Mystery Machine, cooking hamburgers over an electric stove.

"Like, pass the buns, Scoob!"  He said, scooping a patty of the griller, "This one's ready for inspection!"

"Rokay!"  Scooby said, as he scooped up two buns, and grabbed a squeeze tube of Ketchup with his right foot.  Shaggy then lifted the patty of the grill with the spatular, and plopped it onto the bottom bun, which Scooby then squirted with Ketchup.

He then placed the top bun on the top, and ate the whole thing in one gulp.

"Well?"  Shaggy asked.

Scooby shook his mouth from side to side, like a wine taster, and then belched loudly.

"Refect!"  He said, and then chuckled. "Reh, he heh he heh!"

"Then like, pass some more this way, Scoob!"  Shaggy said, scooping up some more patties, "These burgers aren't gonna eat themselves!"  

"Rincoming!"  Scooby said, as he tossed some buns Shaggy's way.  Shaggy snatched them out of the air, and quickly made his own burger.  

"Like, where's Scrappy, man?"  Shaggy asked, looking around into the front of the van.

"Right here!"  Scrappy cried out, jumping up from the front seat and into the back.

"Lunch is ready," Shaggy said, squirting some ketchup onto Scrappy's burger, and handing it to him.

"About time too!"  Scrappy said, as he snatched the burger, and began to scarf it down.  Shaggy made his own burgers, then began to eat along with the others.

"These are great burgers Shaggy," Scrappy said, as he finished of his second.

"Reah," Scooby said, gulping down another.  "Rantastic!"  

"It's like what I do," Shaggy said, making himself another.  "Food's my life."

"Then how come you never started your own restaurant, Shaggy?" Scrappy asked.

"I guess me and Scoob would eat all the food," then he and Scooby began laughing.

Just then, there was a knock at the back van door.  "Ri'll ret it!"  Scooby said, opening the door.  There was a postman, standing there.

"Excuse me," he said, "Is this where I might find Norville Rodgers?"

"Like, that's me, man!"  Shaggy said.

"Letter!"  The man handed him the letter, and left.  Shaggy shrugged, and opened it.  All that was inside was a single white sheet of paper, with the very large 'WARNING,' sign written on it in bright red.

"Hey," Shaggy said, narrowing his eyes, "Like, what gives?"

"What dose it say?"  Scrappy asked.

"It just says, warning!"  Shaggy said.

"Then you should probably listen to it," Scrappy said.

"Huh," Shaggy said, "Why…?"  He glanced down, to find that Scrappy was no longer there.  "Hey, where did Scrappy…?"  He looked up, to find that Scooby was gone as well.  "Like, what's going on!?!"

"Be careful Shaggy," he spun around to see Scrappy in the front seat, along with Scooby.  "We can't be here for you this time.  You're going to have to handle this one on your own."

Then, he realised he was standing outside the Mystery Machine, in the street.  It was dark, and no body was around.

"Where are you guys going?"  Shaggy cried out, gripping the driver's side window.

"Re Ran't Ray!"  Scooby said, and then waved his front paw at Shaggy, as he started up the engine.  "Ry, ry!"

"WAIT!"  Shaggy called out.

"Be aware, Shaggy," Scrappy said, leaning over to look out the window at Shaggy, "Things aren't what they seem.  We can't help you, but there are others who can."  
  


Then, the Mystery Machine suddenly took off in a cloud of dust, leaving Shaggy standing all on his own.

"NO!"  Shaggy screamed out, "Don't leave me!  Not again!"  He started running of after the van.  "Please, don't go!"  He suddenly got a cramp, and had to stop running.  He doubled over, puffing loudly.  "Please," he weakly cried out, as the van disappeared over the horizon, "don't leave me all alone!"

Suddenly, he was aware of something.  He straightened up, and looked over his shoulder.

There, standing by a streetlight, was a darkened figure in a trench coat.  His features were shrouded in dark, and smoke occasionally rose from his face as he breathed in and out.  Shaggy narrowed his eyes, and looked over at the man.

"H-hello?"  He called out.

There was no answer.

"C-can I help you?"  Shaggy asked.  He took a step towards the figure, and red eyes flashed.  He stoped in his tracks, and did a double take.  "Whoa!"  He muttered.  He then turned around, to leave, but the moment he did, a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

He spun around and came face to face with some man he'd never seen before.  How did he move so fast?  The man had dark black shades, and stared blankly back at him with no expression.

"What do you want?"  Shaggy demanded.  The man said nothing, and then slowly, began to speak.

"You have something I want!"  The man said, "Give it to me!"  Shaggy remained silent.  The man gave a small glimpse of his teeth.  "Don't play games with me boy!  You have no idea who I am, and what I can do!"  He then held out his hand.  "Now, hand it over!"

"L-leave me alone!"  Shaggy said, taking a few steps backward.

"You're only making it harder on your self, Shaggy," the man said.  "Just surrender now."

"I'll… hey, wait a minute, how did you know my name?"

"I know more about you than you'll ever know, Rodgers," the man said, taking a step towards Shaggy, "Now, about that item that I want!"

"Leave me alone," Shaggy said, turning around…

…and bumped right into the man, stumbling backwards, Shaggy cried out in alarm.

"You can't run, Shaggy," He said, slightly agitated.  "I can find you anywhere on this planet."  He then shot out his arm with his fingers spread out.  "And now…!"  He snarled through his teeth.

"Drop dead!"  Shaggy said.

"You first!"  He then snapped his fingers, and the ground suddenly gave way.  Shaggy screamed out, as he fell head over heals, down towards a rocky floor of stalagmites.

"NO!!!"  He screamed out as he leapt forward.  He then realised he was stairing at the seat in front of him.  He was suddenly back on the plane.  He looked around.  People were giving him strange looks.

"Ummm, is there a problem, sir?"  A stewardess asked.  Shaggy took a minute to bring his breathing down to a normal level.  

"N-no," he finally said, "no, there's no problem.  Just a bad dream, that's all."

"Okay," the lady said, and moved away, keeping an eye on him as she did so.  The rest of the plane gradually went back to what they were doing, until Shaggy was no longer the focus of their attention.  

He sighed heavily, and mopped his brow with his hand.  His face was covered in sweat.

"Wow," he murmured.  "That was some nightmare."  He froze, and patted his coat pocket.  He sighed happily to find the book still there.  He pulled it out, and looked at it.  Its single word title stared back at him.

'Life.'

He tried the buckle, but could not get it unlocked.  Man, what he wouldn't give to know what was inside that book.  He looked around again, and then placed it back inside his coat pocket.

**THE NEXT DAY…**

It was late in the afternoon, when Shaggy finally got home.

"Keep the change, pal," Shaggy said to the cab driver.

"Thanks old timer," the cabby said, "Say, you don't need a hand with your suit cases?"

"No," Shaggy said, "I'll be fine."

"Okay," the cabby said, "Take care of your self!"

"I will," Shaggy said, "Thank you for your concern."

Cabby gave a wave, and then took off.  Shaggy picked up his shoulder bag, and his travel case, and pushing open his front gate, walked up his path, towards the front porch.  He dropped his case, and stretched his back.  

"Ohhh, I've really gotta give this up," he moaned, then pulled out his keys, unlocked the door, and walked inside.

He manoeuvred inside, and dropped his bags in the living room.  He glanced over at the clock, above the TV.  5:26.

If he managed to stay awake long enough, he might be able to catch the end of the 5 o'clock news.  Find out what'd been happening since he was gone.  Hmph, while he'd been gone.  He'd been gone for less than a week.

He slumped down into a large comfy reclining chair.  He leaned back, kicking up its footrest, and picking up the remote, turned on the TV.

".... Ended up with only five points, while the Everett team managed to score a maximum of twelve points, thus winning the match.  Quite a game, Huh Lola?"

"Thanks, Bill.  I'm surprised anyone can even think of sports in this weather.  Right Dave?"

"Right Lola.  At Seattle's magnificent Space needle, it's ninety-seven --- with no relief in sight."

"Thanks Dave.  This heat wave has sparked many acts of civil violence here in Seattle.  Late last night, an elderly couple were brutally beaten and left to die in the street outside their apartment, for what could only be described as a robbery of twelve dollars.  Only the quick thinking of a passer by saved their lives."

Shaggy made a face.

"In other news today, the bizarre weather patterns that have been effecting the lower regions of China, Tibet, and Nepal, have suddenly dissipated, as quickly as they formed, leaving scientists and weather annalists without a clue.  Much of the storms seemed to have stayed in tact, although they seem to be blowing out across the northern area's of Indo-china."

"Well, that's all we have time for tonight.  Join us tomorrow at nine o'clock for the news.  Here's a preview of tomorrow's top stories, so until then, I'm Lola Bates, and Goodnight."

"And goodbye!"  Shaggy grumbled, as he changed the channel.  The next channel was a soap opera, and the one after that was a different soap opera, and then the one after that was an ad, and finally, CNN.  Shaggy gave up, and just dropped the remote, and got up to get something to eat.  

As he walked into the kitchen, Shaggy patted his coat pocket, felling the book there.  He sighed, as he sat back down in the chair.

Some adventure this turned out to be.  He threw up his hands, and let them fall back onto the table.  He got up, and walked over to the fridge.  He got out some frozen pizza, and put on a coffee.  He put the pizza in the microwave and sat back down at the table.

He couldn't help but glance over at the two empty seats ether side of him.  He sighed, and closed his eyes.  When he opened them again, they were still empty.  "So much for wishful thinking," Shaggy muttered, getting up as the kettle began to whistle.

He got up, and poured the kettle into the plunger, then plunged it, and poured out his coffee.  "Man," he said with a chuckle, "if I keep drinking this, I'll never go to sleep.  He then lifted the cup to his lips, and sipped.

As he looked at the window in front of him, he saw a figure standing outside, just by his front gate, looking into his house.  For some strange reason, he looked awfully familiar.  He narrowed his eyes, and gasped.

It was the guy from his dream.

Shaggy suddenly drank some coffee down his windpipe, and he began a coughing fit.  Coffee plastered it's self against the window, and he dropped the cup into the sink.  He grabbed a glass, and quickly filled it up with tap water, drinking it down, trying to calm his coughing.   

When he finally stopped, he looked back out the window.

There was no one there.

He looked from the coffee pot, to the window, and back again.  "That's it," he said, picking up the pot, and pouring the remaining contense down the sink, "I'm switching to De-Café."  

As he poured, he couldn't help but glance up, back out the window.  There was nobody by his gate.  He scoffed to himself, as he picked up a washcloth, and began to clean the window.

He looked out the window at the sky.  A brilliant orange and red canvas covered the sky, sinking into the distance, towards the Pacific Ocean. 

He smiled, and then dumping the washcloth into the sink, walked over to the microwave oven as it dinged, and opened it.  The steaming hot smell of the pizza, and pepperoni, and sausage, and cheese.  He 'Mmmmed,' his approval, then set about cutting it up. 

He took a slice of pizza to the table, and sat down.  His eyes once more floated to the empty chairs.  He rested his head in one hand, and tapped on the plate with the other.  He should really get rid of those.  He'd never had any company in his house since Scrappy was gone.

He wasn't hungry anymore.  Giving a frustrated grunt, he pushed his chair away, and grabbing his suitcase, hauled it up the steps, to his bedroom.  

With a mighty heave, he threw the case up onto the bed, and rubbed his back.  He wasn't as young as he used to be.  He subconsciously glanced over at his dresser top, where all the cards from his fiftieth birthday lay.  He stared at them for a few moments, before bending over, and unclipping the case.

He set about unpacking all the clothes, deciding which ones, could go into the wash, and which ones could go back into the cupboard.  As he worked, he finally uncovered the photo he'd packed.  The one of the original gang.  Mystery Inc.

He smiled, and placed it down on the bedside table, where it always sat, and took a moment to admire it.  It was then, that his eyes floated over to the phone, right next to it.  The smile vanished.  He took a deep breath, and licked his lips.  

His vision switched from between the photo, and the phone.

Suddenly, he realised, how?  He'd lost contact with everyone.  He'd been in such a depression, ever since Scrappy left him, that he'd forgotten all about his friends.  He didn't know where they lived.

Daphne Blake he knew, lived in Los Angles, somewhere.  He'd seen her in a few TV shows, and the occasional movie, but that was years ago, now, as she grew older, he'd seen less and less of her.  He'd seen her in the occasional commercial, and cameo appearance in a TV show, but didn't bother to get in touch.  

Fred Jones?  Where to begin.  God only knew where he was. Fred left the group back in '73.  That's when the original gang split up.  He'd been offered a university Football scholarship, but deferred it, so he could continue roaming with the group.  Finally, he couldn't defer it any longer, and had to take it.  Daphne, as far as he knew, never forgave Fred for leaving her.  In fact, no body had even bothered to kept in touch with Fred.  The last, anybody had ever heard of Fred, was that he was playing in St. Louise, and that was back in '74.

Velma Dinkley had taken a job with NASA last he'd heard.  She'd run her fathers bookshop to pay for collage courses, then she'd written to Shaggy about the good news, that's when Scooby was still with him.  After Scooby was gone, well, he pretty much never kept in contact with her.

He'd never realised until now, how far everyone had drifted apart.  He wasn't even sure he could find them again.  

He took a deep breath, and straightened up.  

He had to find them.  After all, he did belong to Mystery Inc.  They were the best detective solving business of the 70's.  If he used his brain, he could find them, if he tried.  He'd have to crack open a few memories, open a few files, and call in heaps of favours. 

But he could do it!

**THE NEXT MORNING…**

Shaggy sat at the kitchen table, chewing on a biro, and sorting through some old boxes, when the phone rang.  He spat the biro from his mouth, and picked up the phone.

"Hello!  Norville Rodgers speaking?"

"Rodgers?  It's me!"  He recognised the voice.

"Hey, Sam," he replied, putting down the box, "Do you have some good news for me?"

"Sure do," he said.  There was a moment's pause, as what sounded like paper ruffling could be heard, and then Sam returned.  You were right, Fred Jones did go to Chicago University on a Football scholarship.  He graduated in '76 with a degree in mechanics."

"That's great and all," Shaggy said, "But it doesn't tell me where he lives."

"I'm getting to that part," Sam said.  "As you know, my brother is on the University bord, and he knows a few people too, and I found out from them, and through him, that your old buddy now lives Sheridan, Wyoming."

"Wyoming?"  Shaggy asked.

"Yeah," Sam said, "What's wrong with it?"

"It's a box, Sam," Shaggy said.  "It's like someone just drew a square and said, 'I know, let's make it a state,' it shouldn't even exist."

"Leave Wyoming alone, man," Sam said, "and on the other topic, Fred owns a garage repair shop there.  I've got his phone number as well."  Shaggy grabbed a pad of paper, and picked up the biro.  Shaking it a bit to get rid of some saliva, he then nodded, and wrote down the number.  Then, wrote down the number of Fred's Business.

"Okay, thanks Sam," he said.  "You've been real great!"

"Just trying to help," Sam said.  "See ya, Rodgers."

"See ya, Sam."  Then he hung up.  He then pointed with the biro at the group photo of the gang, or rather, at Fred.  "Got'cha!"  He said.  He then wrote Fred's name next to the number, and then, putting it aside, began to rummage through the box once more.

Wyoming.  Well, at least he was close.  

He then picked up the phone again, and started dialling.  Once finished, he leaned back in his chair, and waited.  The ringing of the phone let him know that the phone was still connected.

The phone was picked up, and a child's voice – a girl -- answered.  "Hello?"

"Hi," Shaggy said, "Tell me, have I reached the Jones residents."

"Yes you have," the kid said.

"Dose Fred Jones live there?"

"He's my father."  In the background, Shaggy could here someone calling out.  She then took her voice away from the phone and answered.  She then came back and asked, "Dad wants to know who you are?"

"Tell him, it's Shaggy."

"Who?"

"Just tell him, sweaty," Shaggy said, "He'll understand, trust me."

"You're strange," she told him, then called out to the voice.  This time, he heard the voice in the background clearly, as he shouted out.

"SHAGGY!?!"  Then, came the pounding of footsteps.  "Shaggy?"  A deep males voice asked.  "Dear God in Heaven, is that you, Rodgers?"

"Nice to here from you too, Fred," Shaggy replied.  "How've you been?"

"All things considered, fine," Fred answered.  "How about your self?  Man, it's been decades!"

"I've been surviving," Shaggy replied.  "They retired me a just a few weeks ago."

"Retired?  You mean you actually got a job?"

"Oh, hah ha!"  Shaggy said sarcastically, "Yes I did grow up." 

"I'd never have imagined," Fred said with a chuckle, "So, what'd did you end up doing?"

"Chief-Customs Inspector," Shaggy replied.  "Me and Scoob, got jobs in the Customs department.  Scoob made an excellent sniffer dog." 

"That, I can imagine," Fred said.

"Now, enough about me," Shaggy said, "What about you?  Sounds like you've done pretty well."

"What do you me --- oh, I take it you're taking about Callie?"

"Callie Jones?"  Shaggy said.  "Is that all?" 

"She's the oldest, and there's her younger sister, Elisa Jones."

"So," Shaggy asked.  "Who was the lucky girl?"

"Oh, I meet her after I got out of University.  You wouldn't know her."  There was a moments silence, before Fred asked, "So, have you seen Daphne lately?"

"No," Shaggy confessed, "In fact, you're the only one I could find."

"Hmmm," Fred hummed, as he contemplated the sentence Shaggy had just spoken.  "What about Velma?"

"Nope," Shaggy said.  "You're the only one."

"Bummer," Fred said softly.

"Look," Shaggy said, quickly changing the subject, "The reason for my call is, I was wondering if you'd be able to come up for the weekend, you know, a little get together after such a long time?"

"I'll be there," Fred quickly said, "I'll be on the next bus up there."

"Great," Shaggy said, "Give me a call on the time you'll be arriving, so I can meet you there."

"Will do, Shag," Fred replied.  "I'll let you know soon."

"I'll be looking forward to it, Fred," Shaggy said.  "Bye!"

"Bye."  Then, Fred hung up.  Shaggy placed the phone down, and sighed.  He hated lying to Fred, but he wasn't sure how he'd react to the knowledge that everyone, but most importantly, Daphne would be coming up.  The truth was, he'd found everybody.  Even Velma, and Daphne. 

He didn't know how Daphne would react to Fred, and vice versa.

Well, time to call the others.

He picked up the phone, and dialled the next number.  The phone rang a few times, before it was picked up, and a females voice answered.

"Hello, Galen residences."  Shaggy smiled, as he recognised the voice.

"Hello, Velma," Shaggy said.  "It's good to here your voice again."  There was a slight pause.

"Shaggy?"  Velma asked.  

"Sure is, Velma," Shaggy replied, "How have you been?"  

"Shaggy?!?"  Velma said again.  "My God, Norville Rodgers it _is_ you!"

"How have you been, Velma?"  Shaggy asked again with a small grin.

"Huh?  Oh, sorry," she apologised, "It's just that I haven't herd from you in ages."  She gave a small chuckled.  "I've been well, all things considered.  How about yourself?"

"Me?"  Shaggy drummed his fingers on the tabletop.  "Surviving," he repeated.

"So," Velma quickly interrupted, "How's…"  She suddenly trailed off, as she realised what she was about to ask.  "Oh, sorry," Velma said in a quite voice, "They'd be…"  She trailed off again.

"That's okay," Shaggy said with a sigh.  "It's been fifteen years.  I've gotten over it since then."

Velma just ummmed, then quickly asked, "SO, what job did you end up getting?"

"Me?  I ended up in the Seattle International Airport Customs Department."

"The Customs department?"  

"Yeah," Shaggy said with a nod.  "You know, illegal food stuffs…"

"Oh," Velma said, "That seems just about right for you."  

Shaggy chuckled.  "Hey, wise man says, Pick a job that you love, and you'll never work a day in your life." 

"So anyway," Velma asked, "Why the sudden need to resurface all of a sudden?"  Shaggy thought fast.

"I was so recently retired."  He replied.  "I was feeling a little lonely now, and decided to see if I could get in contact with the old gang.  I haven't spoken to any of you guys for a long, long time."

"You mean you got in contact with Fred and Daphne?"  Velma asked.

"Uh-huh."

"Man," Velma muttered.  "How's Freed taking Daphne?"  He paused.

"I—I haven't told him that she's coming, yet."  Shaggy confessed.  In fact, he doesn't know you're coming too."

"Shaggy," Velma warned.  "That's inviting a recipe for disaster."

"I know," Shaggy said, "But it was the only way I could get him to come."

"And what about Daphne?"

"I just recently found out her where-abouts, but I haven't called her yet."

"Are you going to pull of the same routine?"

"Yes."  He could here Velma sigh on the other line.

"You do realise what's going to happen when every one gets to your place, don't you?"

"It'll be too late for anyone to do anything about it by then," Shaggy said.

"If you believe that, Shaggy," Velma said, "You don't know women, or Daphne for that matter."

Shaggy paused, and then asked, "Velma, what exactly happened between Fred and Daphne, you know, way back then?"

"She didn't tell you?"  Velma asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.  "Wow, you spent more time with her then I did, and she never told you?"

"She never wanted to talk about it, and every time I went near the subject she quickly changed it.  After a few tries, she made it clear that wasn't something she wanted to discus.  So I stoped asking and the whole question slipped my mind as time passed."

Velma was silent for a few seconds, and then spoke.  "Fred never gave her the time of his departure from the train station that morning."

"What?"  Shaggy interrupted.  "Why?"

"I guess he forgot.  The two of them hadn't really gotten on well during their last night together, and for Daphne, well, she was in tears that day Fred left."

"And that was the last time they ever had any contact with each other."  Shaggy said.

"How was Daphne when you were working for her?"  Velma asked.

"Well, during our first days, she always was eager to read her mail, and when the telephone rang.  Then, after the first few months, she lost that eagerness.  I'd always suspected it had something to do with Fred."  Shaggy paused, realising that Velma hadn't answered his question.  Why Fred never called Daphne.

"So don't know why they never got in contact with each other?"  Finally, Shaggy realised that Velma didn't know ether. 

"No," Shaggy said.  "I thought you knew."  He could here Velma start to say something on the other line but she stopped her self.  Shaggy suspected she was going to repeat what he'd just said.

Then, she said, "Well, when or if, they both get to your place, we're going to find out then."  Shaggy nodded, then spent the remainder of the phone call, informing Velma on where and how to get to his place.

Eventually, he hung up the phone, then picked up the last scrap of paper.  Daphne's number.  He took a deep breath.  

*Well, here goes nothing!*

He picked up the phone, and began to dial.  The phone on the other line rang about sixteen times, before it was finally picked up.  "If you aren't somebody I know, you'd better hang up."  The voice sounded very agitated.

"Daphne," Shaggy said slowly, it's me."

There was an irritated grunt.  "I don't know any me's," she said.  Then, the phone was hung up.  Shaggy reared back form the disengaged beeping that came though.  "What!?!"  He cried out.  He growled in frustration, and dialled again.  The phone rang three times, before it was picked up.

"I'm warning you…!"  Daphne started again.

"Daphne," Shaggy quickly interrupted, "it's me, SHAGGY!"  He practically shouted out his Old Nick name.  There was a long pause on the other line.

"Shaggy?"  Daphne sounded shocked.  "Is that really you?"

"Who else would it be," Shaggy said, "Say, who'd you think I was anyway?"

"Oh God," she gave a loud chuckle, "I'm so sorry, Shaggy, I thought you were some drooling stalker."

"I could be if you want." Shaggy said with a smile.

"Very funny," she said sarcastically, "So tell me, Rodgers, why the sudden call?"

"I'm organising a reunion of the old Mystery Inc. Gang," he said.  "I was hoping you'd be able to come."

Daphne was silent.  "Is Fred coming?"  She finally asked.

He took a deep breath.  "No," Shaggy lied, "I couldn't get in contact with him.  I can't find him anywhere."

"Hey," Daphne said in a comforting tone, "Don't be so hard on your self, "I tried to find him for five years, with no success.  The guy's harder to find than Wally.  Besides," she paused again.  "What good would it do to see him again after all this time."

It was Shaggy's turn to be silent for a few seconds.  Was his plan the best after all?  Yes?  No?  It was so difficult.  Why didn't Fred contact Daphne after all these years?

"So," he asked, "Would you be able to come up to see me, and Velma?"

"For you, Shaggy," Daphne said, "Anything.  Where are you?"  Shaggy then spent the rest of his conversation with Daphne explaining everything, where he lived, what he'd been doing, his recent employment problems.  

To no surprise.  Fred was never mentioned in the conversation ever again.  It was still bugging Shaggy as he hung up.  Well, there was no retreat now, he'd organised everything, and Fred and Daphne would be seeing each other again wether they liked it or not.

He unzipped his jacket, and looked in at the inside pocket.  The book was still there.  Wether HE liked it or not, he was going to need some help, and who better to help, than the old Gang.  He shrugged his shoulders.  You can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.

Shaggy crossed his fingers and prayed.

**THREE DAYS LATER…**

Shaggy was getting tired of trying to stand on tippee-toes, plus it was hurting his feet.  He wasn't as young as he used to be, and his body was reminding him of this.  As he went and sat down, he couldn't help but wounder, why had VanGhould chosen him?  Surly there were much younger people in the world, who were more than capable of looking after that book.  Why him?  He'd already pasted his half-century, his back was starting to play up, he wore glasses, and he was losing hair.

Running his fingers through the bald spot on the back of his head he couldn't help but chuckle at the hair style he had when he was a teenager, and a young adult.  Man, did he look like a fool.

Just then, a young man walked past who'd shaved of all his hair, except for a long strip down the middle, that was platted, and ended in a pony tail that came down to his shoulder blades.  Shaggy made a face.

Then again…

"Shaggy!"  Shaggy looked up as he saw the 49 year old woman with fading light orange hair and thin reading spectacles rushing towards him, arms open wide. He got up and opened his arms wide, accepting Daphne's hug.  "Oh, Shaggy," Daphne said as they disengaged, "It's been so long since we've last seen each other.  I mean, my God, just look at you!  You're old!"

"Don't remind me," Shaggy muttered, running his fingers through his hair one last time, feeling the cold hard surface of his head.  "We've all grown up, Daphne, I see you've gone through some changes."  He eyed her very short hair.

"Oh, this," she said, brushing at her hair.  "A part I recently played on a stage show required short hair.  You like it?"

"It just doesn't seem like the old Daphne I knew."

"You can speak," Daphne said, giving Shaggy a small shove.  "You don't look a thing like the old Shaggy I knew."  She paused.  "You've even lost the Goatee."

Shaggy just rolled his eyes.  "Come on," he said, "Let's go get your baggage and get out of here."

"Is Velma here yet?"

"She's arriving this afternoon," Shaggy said.  "You're the first to arrive."  Shaggy then bit his lip.  Fred would be arriving some time this evening.  Then, he would see what would happen between them.  They both walked down to the baggage area, and waited, watching as bag after bag came by.

"Well, hello Norville."

The voice from behind him startled both himself, and Daphne.  They turned around, and saw Ellen Yindle standing behind them.

"Hi Ellen," Shaggy replied, "How did you find me?"

"Everyone who works here knows you Norville," Yindle said, "It wasn't long before word of your arrival got to me.  I decided to come down and say hello."

"Oh, Ellen," Shaggy said, turning to face Daphne, "I want you to meet an old friend of mine, Daphne Blake."  Daphne smiled and held out her hand.

"From Mystery Inc?"  Yindle looked surprised.  She then reached out and shock Daphne's hand.  "Wow, what are you doing here?"

"A small reunion," she said, "We haven't seen each other in quite some time.  So, what do you do around here."

"I'm Chief-Customs Inspector of the whole airport," Ellen said.  "I recently took over from Norville when he was retired."

"I chose her for being my replacement," Shaggy said, "She's the best there is; better than me even."

"Norville, please," Yindle replied shrugging, "Even one knows you're the best there ever was."

"The best at Chief-Customs Inspector?"  Daphne was confused.  

"We take our work seriously," Shaggy replied.

"And in this day-and-age," Yindle added, "You need to take something like this seriously."

Daphne shrugged.  "Well, that's what you…  Hey, my bag!"  She reached across in front of two other people, and grabbed her luggage, ripping it of, nearly taking out one of the people beside her.

"Here," Shaggy said, "Let me help you with that."  
  


"I can manage," Daphne, said, "A lots changed since the old days, Shaggy.  I don't need you carrying around my entire luggage anymore."

"Fine," Shaggy said, as Daphne turned around, he looked up at the ceiling, and mouthed the words 'Thank you.'  Yindle chuckled.

"Did I miss something?"  Daphne asked, grabbing her next bag from the conveyer-belt.  Both Ellen and Shaggy just shrugged in response.  She looked at Shaggy, then back at Yindle.  "You two are so much alike, it's freaky."

Both Shaggy and Yindle glanced at each other and gave a nervous chuckle.  "Well, she has been under my wing for a while."

"A while?"  Yindle asked.  "Try six years."

Just then, the over-head speakers crackled to life, and an electronically smothered voice called out, "Ellen Yindle, Please report to the Off-Loading Bay at once.  Ellen Yindle."

"Duty calls," she replied.  She reached out and took Daphne's hand once more.  "Nice to meet you, Ms. Blake."  She turned and gave a small nod to Shaggy.  "Norville."  Then, she was gone.

Daphne watched, as Yindle vanished into the swirling mass of the crowd, then turned to Shaggy.  "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that she likes you."  Shaggy just gave a small shrug in reply.

"I've never really noticed."  He said.  "I was always kept busy.  I never had enough time for a social life."

"Well, I think you should ask her out," Daphne said, picking up the extendable handles on her suits cases, and pulling them along the ground on their wheels.  "She seems like a nice person, someone _you_ could really get along with."

"I-I can't start something like that," Shaggy said, glancing at the floor, as they walked towards the exit.

"And why the hell not?"  Daphne asked.

"I mean, I'm too old, Daphne," Shaggy said.  "I'm 52 years old.  Next year it's 53.  I can't start up a relationship now."

"That's all the more reason to hurry up then," Daphne said, as they walked through the automatic sliding doors and out onto the pick-up area.  "You've got another 30, possibly 40 years left on your life.  You only have one life.  Make use of what little time you have left, and don't spend your life morning over something you never did."  She narrowed her eyes, and lowered her voice.  "Like I did."  She then brightened up, as she reached the curb, and put down her cases, straightened up, and turning to face Shaggy asked, "So, where's the car?"

"Huh?"  Shaggy was taken back by her sudden mode swing, then regaining his posture, pointed down the road to the parking lot.  "Oh, this way."

***

Putting on the indicator, Shaggy slowed down and turned right, pulling into his driveway.  "This is it," he said, pulling to a stop in front of the garage with the lime green door, "Home sweet home."

Daphne unbuckled her seatbelt, and got out of the car, looking at the house.  It was a two-story, whitewash house, with a side garage on the left, and a small attic on the top with one small round window, showing any signs that it was there.  There was a raised front porch that had an extended roof, where three rocking chairs rested, and a small coffee table.

Daphne just nodded at the three chairs.  She sighed, and looked away, realising just how long it had really been.

"I just wish we could've had one last reunion with the entire gang," Shaggy said, eyeing the other two chairs.  "I actually tried to get in contact with everyone, during Scooby's final days, but I couldn't find anyone.  We'd all been apart for so long, that it was impossible to find you all again in time."  He glanced down at the driveway.  "To see the old gang one last time, I'm sure it would have delighted him.  He could've possibly held on a little while longer."  He bit his lip, as he let out a gust of air.  Then, he turned around, and drummed his hands on the roof of the car.  "But come on," he said, his voice retuning to it's cheerful self, "Let's get you inside."

He took one of Daphne's bags, while she took the other, and they went inside.  Shaggy spent the next ten minutes showing her around, informing her of where everything was, her room, his room, and so on, and so on.

When lunchtime rolled around, they sat down at the kitchen table, and reminisced about old times, shearing stories of what they'd done since they last saw each other.

Eventually, the clock ticked over into the afternoon, and a long awaited knock materialised at the front door.  Shaggy got up, and opened the door to a 47 year old woman with short fading brown hair, thick black rimmed spectacles, and a very casual creamy colored business suit, and a huge grin on her face.

He flung his arms open wide, and shouted, "Velma!"  She shouted out his name, and they both hugged.

"Long time no see, Shaggy," she said, as they disengaged from their hug.  She looked him up and down.  "I see you no longer have that Goatee.  That's an improvement."

Shaggy sighed in frustration.  "Why dose everyone seem to have it out for my Goatee?" 

"It looked horrible," Daphne said from behind him.  "Made you look like a hippy."

"Daphne!?!"  Velma cried out happily.

"Velma!"  She cried out, and the two girls hugged each other.  "Oh God, it's good to see you again, girl."

"Well," Velma said, as they straightened up, "It has literally been decades since we've last seen each other.  How have you been?"

"All things considered, I've been fine.  What about your self."

"She's married."  Shaggy interrupted.  Daphne looked shocked.

"Married?  You?  Our Velma Dinkly?"

"Velma Galen," she corrected.  "I actually have a family of my own now.  Two boys, Robert, aged 12 and Jason, aged 10."

"Wow," Daphne said, "So who was the lucky guy?"

"Oh, someone I met at NASA.  He was a man who specialised in Mathematics', Mathew Galen." 

Shaggy stole a glance towards Daphne, and saw that for a split second, the bitterness of relationship with Fred showed through.  A nervous shiver ran down his spine.  Before the day would be out, Fred would be here, and he and Daphne would be coming together for the first time in nearly twenty-nine years. 

"Something wrong, Shaggy?"  Velma asked.  Shaggy looked over Velma, who had a concerned look on her face.  She knew his plan, and she had doubts about it too.

"Nothing," Shaggy said, "It's just we've been apart for so long, it's great to see us all together again."

"Well, come on," Daphne said, "We've got so much to talk about."  They headed back into the kitchen, laughing and joking like they used to back when they were a group.  

For the rest of the afternoon, Shaggy helped Velma move into her room, then the two girls unpacked, and they all came back down to the kitchen, for an afternoon snack, and they talked some more, talking about adventures they'd had both together, and separately. 

They'd been having such a good time, that they failed to notice time slipping away, until a rather loud knock at the door, brought them back to reality.

"Who could that be?"  Shaggy asked, as he started to rise, he suddenly froze, and glanced over at the clock on the wall.  It was 6:15pm.  He gasped.  That could only mean that…

"Shaggy?"  Daphne asked.  "Are you alright?"  

"I think I'd better see to the door," Velma said, getting up quickly.  Shaggy suddenly began to break out in a sweat.  If that was who he thought it was, then things were about to get a whole lot interesting.

The front door was opened, and both Shaggy and Daphne herd a deep males voice cry out Velma's name, and there was some laughter.  Daphne froze on the spot.

"Velma," the voice said again, "I didn't think you'd be here!"

"That voice," Daphne muttered, "I know that voice!"

"SHAGGY?!"  The male's voice called out.  "Where are you!?!"  

"In here!"  Shaggy said, then taking a deep breath, stood up, as Fred Jones entered the kitchen.  He was 49 years old.  His once blond hair was almost white, faded with age.  He had a moustache that was a combination of grey and white.  He wore just a dark blue jacket, with light blue jeans, with a faded red shirt under the jacket. 

Daphne's eyes widened, and she shot straight up, the chair she was sitting on was set sliding into the cupboard behind her with a loud 'thwack.'

It echoed, because Fred had become silent, as he saw just who was sitting at Shaggy's table.  The shoulder bag he'd been carrying dropped the floor, and his mouth hung open.

"Oh my God," he whispered.  "D-Daphne?"

Fredrick Jones, although in his late forties, rediscovered a certain amount of youthful agility in his old limbs.  He dodged a cast-iron frying pan, and winced as it smashed the window behind him.  Of to the side, Shaggy, and Velma watched with wide eyes.

"Daphne," Fred said, "Watch what you're doing, this isn't your house!"

"I don't care!"  Daphne shrieked, "All my life waiting, all my life I spent in front of the TV, waiting for the phone to ring!  All my life I waisted!  How dare you leave me hanging like that!!!"

Fred backed against the wall, retreating before the sharp prods of the broomstick in his ribs, his hands raised in surrender.  "B-but I thought you never wanted to see me again," Fred cried.  "That last night we spent together, you were so melancholy, I thought it would rain!"

"Melancholy!?!"  She exclaimed bitterly.  "I had a right to be, you were leaving me, damn it!  Did you expect me to be signing 'Morning has Broken,' you damned pig-headed jock!?!"  She poked him again and moved to swipe him across the head with the broom handle.  

"You never came to see me off," Fred pleaded, as he ducked just in time.  "I even paid the bus driver to wait an extra five minutes, just in case!"

"That's because I didn't realise until the next morning, you never gave me your departure time!"  She raised the broom above her head like a samurai warrior, "And by the time I figured it out, you were already gone!"

"I didn't?"  Fred asked, cowering from the raised broom.  "I thought I did."

"God damn you!"  She shrieked, and brought the broom down on Fred's head so hard, it snapped it in half.

"Arrrggh!"  Fred cried out, as he cradled his head.  "Ow, that smarts," he moaned, as he slinked over to the kitchen table, and sat down.  Daphne was still seething with rage, that she couldn't help but give Fred a kick up the backside, making him tumble from his chair to the tiled floor below.

"Daphne," Velma said, jumping in between Fred and Velma, "Please, calm down."

"I thought this bastered wasn't coming!"  Daphne snarled, turning her anger towards Shaggy.  "What's going on here Rodgers!?!"

"I didn't know how the both of you would react to the other one coming," Shaggy confessed, holding up his hands in defence.  "It was the only way I could get the both of you to come."

"You had no right to lie to me like that," she shouted, "I will not sleep in the same house as him!"  She jab an accusing finger at Fred.

"Daphne, please," Shaggy pleaded.

"Good-bye, Shaggy, Velma, it was nice seeing you all again."  She then marched out of the kitchen towards the stairs leading up to her room.

"Daphne, please," Shaggy said, "Where are you going to stay?"

"I'll find a motel," she said, as she stomped up the stairs, with Shaggy hot on her heals.  "Honestly Shaggy, I can't believe you went and tricked me like that."

"I had to because I wanted you to come," Shaggy said, as they reached the top of the stairs.  "Like I said before it was the only way to get you to come.  Would you have come if I said Fred was coming?"

"No," she said, as she made a right, and headed into her room, and started pulling out all of her clothes.

"I thought you wanted to see the old gang again?"  Shaggy asked, as Daphne grabbed one of her suitcases.  

"But not him," Daphne snarled the word, 'him,' as she began shoving her clothes into the case.  "I thought I made it clear all those years ago that I never wanted to see, here, or even sense him ever again."

"Made it clear?"  Shaggy scoffed.  "The only thing you made clear was that you never wanted to talk about the whole subject ever again!"  Daphne paused.  "You never told anyone what happened between you and Fred.  Not me, not Velma, not Scooby or Scrappy.  I had no idea how you would react, but I had to try."

"Try!  Try what?"  Daphne asked.  "Try and get me angry!  Try and resurface old memories.  Fred hurt me, Shaggy!  How could you go and hurt me!?!  I thought you were my friend?"

"I am!"  Shaggy said.  "It's been twenty-nine years since we've last been together Daphne.  Twenty-nine years.  What about all the adventures we had together as Mystery Inc?  Don't any of those memories mean anything to you?"

"Yes," she said, "But not Fred!"

"Okay, okay," Shaggy said, "So you're still mad at Fred, but please, Daphne, don't leave!  So I beg of you, don't spoil this moment because of what happened between you and Fred.  After forty years we're finally all back together again."

Daphne looked away.   "I can't," She said.  "Not after so long.  I can't."

"If you can't do t for me, or Velma, then…" He took a deep breath, then said, "T-Then do it for Scooby!  Remember that time I told you, that I tried to get everyone together for one last time, for Scooby, but I couldn't find any of you!  He never saw anyone from the old again ever again.  If he were here right now, how do you think he'd be reacting to all of this!?!"

Daphne was silent.

"Look, Daphne," Shaggy said, "I'm not asking you to get back together with Fred again, I'm not asking you to patch things up with him and your self, but I am asking that you be here, for Scooby!  Please, do it for him!"

There was a minutes silence, before Daphne finally nodded.

"Very well, Shaggy," she said, sitting down on the bed.  "For Scooby.  I'll do it for him."

"Thank you, Daphne," Shaggy said, holding out his hand.  "Now come on, we have a lot of catching up to do."

"Do I have to be in the same room as Fred?"

"I'm not asking you, but please, don't let your feelings get in the way of our reunion.  We're all together again.  Let's just leave it at that."

"I just need to freshen up," Daphne said.  "I'll be down later."

"Okay," Shaggy said.  "We'll all be waiting."  Then he closed the door, and headed back down to the kitchen.

***


	3. Chapter 3

Shaggy was forcing a smile, as he came down the stairs, and walked into the kitchen.  Fred was sitting at the table, nursing his head.  Velma looked up as Shaggy came back into the kitchen.

"I told you so," she said.

"Well," Shaggy said, ignoring her, "I managed to convince Daphne to stay."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"  Fred asked, looking up at Shaggy.

"Look," Shaggy protested, "It's been twenty-nine years since we've last seen each other.  I'm not going to let a broken love affair spoil the moment."

"You herd her, man," Fred said, "She can't stand the sight of me.  If old age doesn't kill me first, she will!"  

"Fred, what happened, happened," Shaggy said.  "You're married now, eliminating any chance of ever getting back together with Daphne, but at least you have a chance to patch things up with her after all these years."

"Shaggy's right," Velma said.  "You and Daphne were more than friends all those years ago, surely Daphne still remembers those times."

"Are you guys sure?"  Fred asked.  "The way she was acting, you'd think she looks upon them with anger."

"Well, we're not getting anywhere fast with this," Velma replied, leaning back in her chair.  "On another topic, welcome back, Fred."

"Yeah, Shaggy said, leaning over the table to shake Fred's hand, "Good to see you again after all this time, buddy."

A small smile escaped Fred's lips, and he reached up and took Shaggy's hand.  "Thanks for inviting me along, Shaggy."

"So tell me," Velma said, "Shaggy said you were married?  Who was the girl?"

"Someone I meet at the University.  Of cause, back then I still thought Daphne didn't want to see me ever again, so I got close to her.  One thing led to another, and then three years later, we tied the knot."

"How sweet," Velma said, "Any children?"

"Two girls," Fred said, "Ellen, aged 15, and Callie, aged 11."

"Wow," Velma said, "I've got two boys, and you've got two girls."

"Two boys?"  Fred said in disbelief, "You mean, you got married!?!"

"Yes I did," Velma said, rolling her eyes.  "Little Velma Dinkley got married.  Speaking of which, it's Velma Galen now."

"Congratulations Velma," Fred said.  Then, he turned to face Shaggy.  "Hey, Shag, how come you never found time to start a family?"

"Scooby and Scrappy were really the only family I needed."  He replied with a shrug.  "I devoted my life to looking after them.  Then when they were both gone, I was too depressed to go looking for love."  He sighed, and looked down at his feet.  "Then the next thing I know, it's the 21st Century."

"Well, it's not too late, you know," Velma said.  "You've still got some life left in you."

"You should listen to Velma, Shaggy," Fred said, "Don't spend the rest of your life regretting something you never did."  

"That's exactly what Daphne said," Shaggy answered.

  
"What exactly did I say?"  Everyone turned to see Daphne at the entrance of the kitchen.

"Fred said exactly the same thing you said to me about getting a girlfriend."

"Really?"  Daphne said, unimpressed, refusing to look at Fred.  Fred shrank away from Daphne, as she pulled up a stool from the kitchen sink, and sat down at the table.  For a few seconds, there was an uneasy silence.

"Well," Shaggy quickly said, "Here we all are, huh?  All of us, Mystery Inc, after so long?"

"Yeah," Fred muttered, glancing down at the table, "Great."

"Uh-huh."  Daphne said though her teeth.

Silence once more entered the room.  The only sounds that could be herd, were the dipping of water from the sink, the ticking of the clock on the wall, and Shaggy drumming his fingers on the table.

"Please, cut that out," Fred said, slightly turning his head towards Shaggy, "It's becoming rather irritating."

"He can do what ever he damn well likes, Fred," Daphne snapped.

"You're taking delight in tormenting me at every corner, aren't you," Fred said, turning to face Daphne.

"You deserve it!"  Daphne cried.  

"All my life, I've regretted what happened, or rather, what didn't happen between us, Daphne," Fred said, "But maybe, I'm glad it didn't."

Daphne didn't answer.  Instead, she turned around, and grabbed the frying pan, which she'd earlier tossed at Fred, and held it at the ready.  Fred cocked his fist and glared a challenge.

A fist came down on the table with the sound of a gunshot.  "That's enough you two!"  The shout didn't come from Shaggy, but from Velma.  The two near combatants glanced at Velma and then at each other.  "Come on," Velma said, "Here we all are, after 29 years apart, we're finally back together again.  Why dose the moment have to be spoiled because of something that happened between the two of you decades ago?"  Daphne sighed, and lowered the frying pan.  Fred glanced away, and sat back down in his chair.

"Sorry," the both of them said softly.

"That's better," Velma said, sitting back down herself.

There was another moment of silence, before Daphne asked, "So, Shaggy, what ever happened to the old Mystery Machine?"

"It died," Shaggy said with little indifference.  "When we first started Mystery Inc back in '69, it was already a second hand vehicle.  After you and Flim-Flam left, and it was just Scooby, Shaggy, and me on the open road, it started to go all funny on me.  First, one thing went wrong, then another, and another.  Then, it got to the point where I would fix one problem, and another would automatically start playing up.  And then finally, one day the gearbox fell out, and that was the end of that."

"So what happened after that?"  Fred asked.

"Well, my Mom was worried about all the money was spending, just fixing it.  Just before it broke down for the last time, Mom convinced me to by a house.  Then, I left it out the back, under a tall tree because I didn't have enough space in the garage.  It's still there, rusted and all, but I just couldn't bare to part with it, not after all the adventures we've been though in it."

"Yeah," Fred muttered, looking down the hallway, as if looking out to the back yard.

"Those were great times," Daphne admitted, looking up at the ceiling.

"So, Daphne," Velma asked, "What did you and Shaggy get up to when it was just you two, Scooby and Scrappy?"

"Adventures," Daphne said with a smile.  "We were a reporting team, covering the world, busting crooks in a mask.  Much like the times we had when we were Mystery Inc."

"And then there was that chest," Shaggy said.  

"Don't remind me, Shaggy," Daphne said, rolling her eyes.

"What chest?"  Both Velma and Fred asked together.  

"Back in the seventies, while flying over the Himalayans when we had to make an emergency landing."  Daphne began.  "We ran into two strange characters, a wizard by the name of Vincent VanGhoul, and a 10 year-old orphan, named Flim-Flam." 

Shaggy patted his right jacket pocket, where the book was still hidden.  No one saw him do that.  Still, he was wondering just how he was going to break the news of what had happened to him to the gang.  The last time he'd kept secrets from them, it exploded right in his face.  Literally.

"Well, after our plane was stolen, and a little scuffle with the local townsfolk, Scooby and Shaggy were tricked into opening this chest, that contained thirteen of the worlds most evil spirits."  

Fred and Velma turned to look at Shaggy.  "Hey," Shaggy protested, "These two creepy ghosts tricked me and Scoob.  They made us think we were in a game show."

"A game show?"  Fred asked.

"In the Himalayans?"  Velma asked.

"Hey," Shaggy scowled, crossing his arms, "I was much younger back then, okay!"

"Anyway," Daphne said, "So since we let them out, we had to put them back.  So we had to travel the world, trying to find all of these ghosts, and get them back into the chest."

"I take it you did the job?"  Fed asked.

"Naturally," Shaggy said, "We got them all, returned the chest to VanGhoul, and then we went our separate ways."  There was a short silence that followed.

"29 years," Velma said softly.  "We were the best of friends, and we haven't seen each other in 29 years."

"Well, Daphne and I haven't seen each other in 27 years."  Shaggy said.  "It's just been 29 years since we've all been together."

"Next year is 2003 and that'll make it 30 years," Velma said.

"And I'll be 50."  Daphne muttered.  "My half century is coming up in less than a year."  Her eyes narrowed, as she said, "And what have I done with my life?"

"Uhh, maybe I should show you your room, Fred," Shaggy quickly interrupted.  He could see where Daphne was going with that.  "I mean, you haven't even settled in yet."

"Okay," Fred replied, as he quickly got up, and fetched his bag.  As they left the room, Fred gave Daphne a side glance, but she was still in a mode.

"I'm sorry I lied to you, Fred," Shaggy said, as they climbed the stairs to the second floor.  "But I really wanted to see _all_ of you guys one last time, and like I said before, it was the only way I could get you all to come."

"I understand," Fred said, "But you know, I would've come if you'd told me the truth," they reached the top of the stairs, and made a right, "I still feel rotten about what happened between Daphne and myself 29 years ago."  Shaggy pushed open a door, that led into his room.

"You can have my room buddy," Shaggy said, "I only have three rooms, for obvious reasons, but I can sleep on the couch."

"Shaggy, I can't take your room."  Fred said.  "I'll take the couch.

"Good heavens no," Shaggy replied, shaking his hands, "You're _my_ guest, you get the room."

"But…"  
  


"No buts buddy," Shaggy replied, "This is your room."

Fred sighed, as he tossed his bag onto the bed, and walked over to the window.  Looking outside, he could see a tall tree in the backyard, and under it, a dull green object.  He half smiled.  "You know, Shaggy," he said quietly, "when I came into the kitchen, and saw her there, I mean, Daphne, just sitting at the table, I was actually happy for a split second."

"Really?"  Shaggy asked.

"Uh-huh," Fred murmured.  "I may be married now, but…" he let out a loud gust of air, "She still drives me crazy."  He closed his eyes, and shook his head.  

"Really," Shaggy said.

"God, I still love her, Shaggy," he turned around and faced his friend.  "I still love her, even after all these years."

"Even though she can't stand the sight of you?"  Shaggy asked.  He was beginning to wounder how he should handle this.  After all, Fred was a married man now.  By all accounts this would be considered adultery, or cheating.  But Daphne still hated Fred.

"She was my first love, Shaggy," Fred said, "You can never forget something like that."

"Fred," Shaggy asked, 

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure thing, Buddy," Fred said, "You can ask me anything?"

"How do you know you're in love?"  Fred turned to look at Shaggy, a blank expression on his face.

"Trust me, Shaggy," he said, "You'll know."

"What's that supposed to mean?"  Shaggy asked.

"Love is a different feeling for all of us, Shaggy," Fred replied, "Love is like an instinct.  You just know when you are in love.  When you meet the right woman, it's like a light switching on."  He snapped his fingers.  "Just like that."

Shaggy just 'Ummed,' while Fred turned back to look out the windows.  He sighed again, before turning back to Shaggy.  "I gotta use the bathroom," he said, and was gone in an instant.

Shaggy still stood in his bedroom, thinking about what Fred had said.  He looked over at his bedside table, where there were a number of photos.  One was of him handing the key to his former office over to Ellen Yindle.  

He blinked at it, and walked over to get a closer look.  As he picked it up, he thought back to what Daphne had told him.  He bit his bottom lip as he placed it back down.  Should he?  Could he?  Would she?

So many questions.  And no answers.  

Speaking of which…

He patted his jacket pocket, still feeling the book.  He pulled it out, looking at its cover, buckle, and title.  "Life," he muttered, trying the buckle one more time.  It still didn't open.  "Yeah," he grumbled, placing it back in his pocket, "I need one."

"Need what?"  Shaggy turned around, and saw Fred standing in the doorway.

"Nothing," Shaggy said hastily, then pushed past Fred and headed for the stairs.  "Look, I'm going to start making some dinner, Why don't you make your self at home.  I'll give you a yell when dinners ready."

"Okay," Fred called out to Shaggy as he disappeared down the stairs.  He then walked over to the bed and opened his travel case, pulling out a few things, and draping them over the end of the bed, while he organised a few things.

He pulled out his toilet bag and set it down on a desk that doubled as a bookshelf.  He paused, his hand still gripping that bag, as his eyes caught sight of something he hadn't seen in years.

An old Coolsville high-school yearbook.  Fred smiled, as he let go of the bag, and picked up the book, opening it, and flipping its pages though his fingers.  He stopped when he reached the individual photo section.  There was Fred Jones, in all his glory, smiling at the camera.  

Fred chuckled.  He couldn't believe how young he'd been.  A hand went up to his face.  Slight wrinkles, the moustache, his once blond hair, now faded with age.  Next year he was going to be 50, just like Daphne.

Daphne!

He flipped a few pages, to find her photo.  There she was, as beautiful as ever.  Her long flowing red hair, hidden by the black and white of the photograph.  Her heavenly smile, her crystal like eyes.  He blinked, and brought himself back to reality.

"Get a hold of your self, Freddy," he whispered to himself.  "You're a married man now, and besides, she hates you."  He shrugged, and started flipping through the pages.  

Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks.  There, taking up half the page, was a photo of the victory, after the big game of 1970.  Fred led the Coolsville Cougars to victory, and Daphne…

The picture showed Fred holding up the trophy with one arm, and his other, was around Daphne, hugging her close to him, and she, one arm around his waist, and the other, gripping the back of his head… as they were both kissing.

A hand went up to his own lips, as his mind floated back to that day.

***

Fred could hardly hear himself shouting out in sheer joy because of the roar of the crowd.  With just minutes to spare, he'd managed to push through the opposition, and sore the winning touch down.  Now, as he stood at the end field, jumping for joy, and shouting for all he was worth, it all seemed to much to be real.

The sudden rush of the sweaty bodies of his team-mates told him this was indeed real.  They shouted at him, patted his back, ruffled his already matted hair, and then hoisted him to their shoulders.  The stadium was filled with a writhing mass of colours, waving banners, and flashes of cameras.  

The scoreboard showed the narrow margin of the victory, it's lights blearing for all to see.  The team carried Fred across the field, to their side, where the coach was jumping up and down, despite being in his mid-fifties.  He ran up to the group, shouting words of congratulations to Fred, but all of it was drowned out.

"FREDDY!!"  A lone female voice was only herd to Fred's ears among the roar of the stadium.  Fred turned his head, to see the cheering squad among the people gathered around.  There, sticking out because of her long red hair was Daphne Blake.  

"DAPHNE!!!"  He shouted back to her.  The sudden decent that followed caught Freddy of-guard, as he touched the ground, the team parted.  Daphne rushed through the gap, and wrapped her arms around Fred, hugging him for all he was worth.

Suddenly, something was thrust into Fred's hands.  Fred turned to see the game trophy, being presented by a smiling man.  

"Congratulations, son," he said, "In all my life, I've never seen such an exhilarating game."  He shock Fred's free hand.  "You're the best Quater-back this school has ever seen."

"Thanks sir," Fred shouted back, just as someone dumped the remaining water cooler all over Fred.  "Arrgh, God!"  He complained.

"Oh come on," Daphne yelled at him, turning his face towards her with a sly smile on her lips, "You've been through a lot more than that.  Just go with the flow."

She then brought her lips to his, and kissed.  The cheering sounds suddenly turned to 'Ooohing,' and 'Ahhhing,' as they were both locked in a passionate kiss. 

"Everybody's watching, Daphe," Fred said softly, as they broke, their noses still touching.

"Let them," she murmured back.

"Hey, Lover-Boy," a man with a camera shouted at them.  "How's 'bout a photo for the year book?"

"Sure thing pal!"  He turned and smiled for the camera, holding up the trophy in one hand, with his other around Daphne.  They moved in closer together, when suddenly, Daphne's fingers grasped his jaw, and turned it towards her.  They both kissed, as the camera flashed, and the photographer gave them the thumbs up, before he melted back into the crowd.

"You know," Fred said, "That's going to be in the year book."

"So?"

"It's going to be there for all time."

"I don't care," she said, both arms encircling Fred's waist, "It'll just let everyone know that you'll always be mine."

"And you'll always be mine," Fred repeated, as they kissed again.

"Forever, and ever?"  Daphne asked, drawing a finger down the left side of his cheek.

"Till the end of time!"

***

Fred drew his old fingers down the left side of his cheek, a smile spread across his lips.  He then closed the book, and placed it back from where he'd gotten it.  Then, he exited the room.

The carpeted stairs cushioned his footsteps as he came down, and into the living room.  He could here Velma and Shaggy talking to each other in the kitchen.  He came down the corridor, and looked into the kitchen.

Shaggy was cleaning some vegetables, while Velma was busy steering something in a pot.  They were talking about some of their past adventures; laughing at some of Shaggy's old antics.  Just like the old days.

Fred smiled, as he entered the kitchen.  "Hey Fred," Shaggy said, looking up from peeling a potato, "Dinner will be ready in about half an hour."

"Fine," Fred said, looking at the fridge.  "Is it okay if I have a beer?"

"Go right ahead," Shaggy said, motioning with his head, "And Fred, you don't have to ask."

"Thanks," Fred said, as he opened the door, and pulled out a light beer.  The can hissed at him as he opened it, and headed out the front door to the porch.

He paused, as his eyes suddenly meet Daphne's.  She was sitting on the far side of the porch, sitting in one of the three rocking chairs that were seated around a small coffee table.  In one hand, rested a wine glass, filled with some bubbly.

She didn't say a single word, as she looked at him, and then turned away to look at the horizon.

"Hey," Fred said, taking a few small steps towards her.

Daphne just 'humphed' her reply, not bothering to turn her head towards him.

"It's nice to see you again, Daphe," Fred said softly.  Daphne didn't answer.  "After all these years, I'm glad you haven't forgotten about me."

"Forgotten about you!?!"  She suddenly cried out, "I spent a better half of a decade trying to forget about you!"  She pointed her finger at him as she shouted.  "You left me all alone, Freddy, we were supposed to be together, forever, and you blew it!"

Fred just nodded in reply.  "Yes Daphne," he admitted, "It was my fault, all of it."

"Finally," she said, "Something we can agree on."

"I'm so sorry, Daphne,"

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Fredrick," Daphne snapped, "It would've been okay about 29 years ago, heck, maybe even 25 years ago, but not today, Fred, never today!"

"Well, what do you want me to say?"  He asked.

"There's nothing you can say, Fred," Daphne replied.  "You owe me more than just an apology, you owe me a God Damned life!"

"So," Fred said softly, "You do remember that day of the big game."

"Remember it?"  Daphne said in a low menacing voice, "It was the one thing that haunted me all my life.  You never forget something like that day, Fred, never!"  She gave a small glimpse of teeth.  "When I first saw you in the kitchen, the first thing I wanted to scream at you was why?  Why you left me hanging like that.  When you gave that dumb answer, 'I thought I did,' well, it was just too much."  She turned her head away and shut her eyes.

"I was sad too, Daphne," Fred replied.  "I was sad that we were separating.  You still wanted to chase ghosts, and I had my future to think about."  He paused and licked the moisture from his lips.  "I couldn't keep up with you Daphe, You had the Blake family fortune behind you, and what the hell did I have?"

"You had me," Daphne said.  "I would've supported you Fred, I told you so, about thirty times during our last night together."

"But what would that make me into?"  Fred asked.  "I need to prove to myself that I can be a self made man, Daphne."

"Just like you damn jocks," Daphne snapped, "You have to prove yourselves to the females.  Nothing more than pissing contests, and beating chests."

"You saw that?"  Fred asked his eyes wide, as his mind flashed back to his younger days in high school.  For the first time since they'd seen each other, Daphne smiled.

"You really didn't think I'd buy that stupid cover story did you?"  Fred just blinked.  

"Why didn't you try to find me?"  Fred asked after a moments silence.

"I was too consumed with rage," Daphne replied with a shrug.  "When I found out your bus had left, and you never gave me the time, I actually kicked over a vending machine."  She wiggled around her foot.  

"You did that?"  Fred asked.  One corner of Daphne's mouth turned up slightly.

"I got a bill for $500, if that answers your question."  Fred chuckled softly.

"Why didn't you ever show that side when we were chasing ghosts?"

"It was one of those spur of the moment things," Daphne replied with a shrug.  "None of those ghosts got on my horrible side, not as much as you did that day."  She shrugged.  "It was just a mixture of feelings; anger, love, regret, fear.  They all exploded at once and… bang."  She gave a small kicking motion with her right foot.

"I wish I had been there to see that," Fred chuckled.  "When I think of all the great times we had together, Daphne, I'm really sorry that I left in the first place."

"Why did you leave, Fred?"  Daphne suddenly asked.

"It was more or less, to prove myself to you, that there was more to Fred Jones, than just Gridiron."  He looked away at the front yard.  "The truth was, I felt like I was being left behind."  He sighed loudly.  "Don't get me wrong, Daphne, it was fun, the times I spent with Mystery Inc, but as time dragged on, I began to grow up.  My friends that I hung out with in high school were finishing their collage courses, and graduating, getting jobs.  By 1973, I was the only one of my original group of school friends, who hadn't gotten a job.  I felt like the dork who comes in last at the big marathon race.  When I was with you guys, Mystery Inc I mean, solving mysteries, it was fun, living out a boy-hood dream like Peter Pan.  The boy who never grew up.  But I had to grow up Daphe, I couldn't stay a boy forever.  That and my parents keep pressuring me to take up that course."  

"You know," Daphne said, "If it makes you feel any better, my father pressured me into getting a job, and to stop running around."

"But you still had adventures," Fred said, "You, Shaggy, Scooby, Scrappy, and then -- what's-his-name…"

"Flim Flam?"

"Yeah, him.  You guys still managed to live out the dream, the dream I had to leave behind."  He shrugged in defeat.  "I wish I could've been there for you Daphne, I really do.  But I wanted to make my own decisions, the decisions that I thought would be the right ones.  Except I made all the wrong ones, and I ended up losing something much more than my dignity."  He looked deep into her eyes.  "I lost the woman I loved.  All because of who I was."

Daphne bit her lip, and then said; "I can't feel sorry for you Fred, not after so long.  You… you just have to know what it was like for me.  I was devastated.  Angry, sad, lonely.  At first, I thought you'd call, you'd ring me up to make a date to see me again."  She lowered her gaze to the floor.  "Well, when that call never came.  Hope gave into despair, and anger.  I turned all my frustrations towards you, like an invisible punching bag.  Anything that went wrong in my life, I blamed you, and for a while, it worked."

"What happened?"

"It all came to a head in '88.  I suffered a nervous brake down.  The doctor said that it was an emotional clash, between my feelings for you, and my method of dealing with them.  You see…" She paused, and then built up the courage.  "I still love you, Fred.  That's what caused my major problems.  I was blaming you for all my bad actions, but I was still madly in love with you, that it was like trying to go through a swinging door with someone on the other side, trying to do the same thing."

"So what happened next?"

"The doctor told me that I should try and set things straight with you, but since I told him I didn't know where to find you, he told me that I should forget about you, focus all my energies on something else.  So I launched myself into acting.  It gave me other things to think about, and over time, you were just lost to my memory, buried down under an emotional pile of garbage."

"Gee," Fred muttered, "No wounder you were so steamed when you saw me."

"Yes," Daphne grumbled, "When Shaggy called me, everything came flooding back, and so did my emotional problems.  It slowly burnt down, like a wick, and when you came into the room, ka-boom."

"So to cut a long story short, you still love me?"

"What the hell do you think?"  She snapped, as she jumped up from her chair, and glared right into his eyes.

There was a long silence that passed between the two of them, as they just stared at each other, none of them saying anything.  Then, slowly, they bent towards each other's lips, and just as slowly, they kissed.

As they kissed, Fred's right hand came up and cupped behind Daphne's ear, fingers slowly moving to the back of her head.  Her arms then moved and encircled Fred's waist, just as Fred's other hand came up and moved around her shoulders.

Then, they were hugging each other close, as they passionately kissed.  Anger and frustration had finally given away to love, as they clutched each other, lavishing the other with kisses. 

"Oh, Daphne," Fred mumbled, as he managed to brake contact for a brief moment.

"Fred," She whispered her lips seeking to resume the kiss that had been broken off.  They kissed for what seemed like hours, until suddenly, Fred broke off.

"I can't," he muttered, as he turned his head away.  "I just can't."

"Can't what?"  Daphne asked, slightly confused.  "What's wrong with you now?"

"It just isn't right," Fred mumbled, not answering Daphne's question.

"What isn't right?"  Daphne was getting annoyed.  "Jess Fred, you sure now how to kill the mode."

"Daphne," he said, turning around to face her, "There's something I have to tell you."

"What?"  She asked, her brow frowning in curiosity.

"I- I'm married."  Fred said.  Daphne froze.  She blinked a few times.

"What?"   She finally asked.

Fred sighed loudly, then said, "I'm already married.  I have been since 1976."  Daphne's jaw was clenched.

"Married,"  she said through her teeth.  "You, went and got married!?!"  Fred could make out her fists, slowly tightening.

*Oh shit!*  He thought.

"YOU BASTERED!!!"  She shouted, as her hands came up and grabbed Fred's shoulders.  Fred never had any time to react, as he suddenly felt his weight sift violently to the right, and he cried out in alarm, as he was sent sprawling over the railing and into Shaggy's flowerbed below.

Fred roared in pain as he landed on his back, his feet up in the air, and his arms spread out beside him.  He moaned as lay there, the flowers crushed beneath his back, and his spine in terrible pain.

Suddenly, the front door was opened and Shaggy and Velma spilled out onto the porch.  

"What the hell just --!"  Shaggy started as he saw a pair of legs sticking straight up from his flow garden.  "My flowers!"  Shaggy cried out.

"Never mind the flowers," Velma snapped pushing past him, as he hurried down the front steps, to see Fred groaning on the ground.  "Fred?"  She asked him, "Are you okay?"

"No," he replied weakly.

"What did you do this time?"  Shaggy asked.

"He's married!"  Daphne snarled, and stormed past him and into the house.

"You should've lied to the both of them Shaggy," Velma said, "We're going to have nothing but trouble for the rest of our visit."

"Alright, so I made a mistake," Shaggy said, "Can we just drop it!?"

"Hey," came a meek voice from the garden, "A little help?"

"Oh, sorry Fred," Velma said, as she and Shaggy came to his aid.  They both gabbed one arm, and pulled him back, until he could touch the ground with his feet.  Then, they helped him stand, and guided him over to one of the porch chairs, helping him lie down.

Fred moaned in pain, as he was eased into the chair.  "Argh, I think I need to lie down on a bed," he groaned trough his clenched teeth.

"Okay, just try and keep it together."  Velma comforted him, as she and Shaggy both got one arm around him, and helped him inside.

As they closed the door behind them, nobody had seemed to notice the man standing over by the streetlight across the other side of the road.  He wore a black business suit, and wore black-rimmed shades.  He was leaning against the lamppost, with his arms cross.

He was still chuckling as he watched Velma, and Shaggy help Fred inside.  "Love," he muttered, "Always ends in pain."  He chuckled again, and then scratched his chin in deep thought.  He hummed to himself.  "That little side show has given me an idea.  Perhaps I can be triumphant if I approach this at a different angle."

Then, sticking his hands in his pockets, he took a step back, into the shadows… and vanished.

***

Fred groaned in pain, as both Velma and Shaggy eased him back onto Shaggy's bed.  They then took of his shoes, and moved his legs up onto the bed, helping him turn about.

"Thanks guys," Fred sighed, as he got comfortable.  "I think I'm gonna be alright."

"I still think you should see a chiropractor, just to be on the safe side," Velma said.  "Other than that, I think it's dinner in bed for you tonight."

"On any other day of the week, I would've been thrilled," Fred, said with a smile, "However, I'm in too much pain to be excited."  He wedged his right hand under his back, and felt his spine.  Moaning as he did so.  "Dear God, that smarts."

"I think it best you stay out of Daphne's sight for a while," Shaggy replied, looking over his shoulder as if at Daphne's room.  "Come to think of it, I'd better check up on her," he then turned about and left the room.

"You know," Fred muttered to Velma, "I really don't blame her for pushing me over that porch."  He turned away and faced the window.  "I deserved that."

"I'm sure Daphne really didn't mean it, Fred," Velma said.  "You know her, always impulsive."

"Impulsive?"  Fred turned to face her.  "She's fanatical."

"What do you mean?"  Velma asked, one eyebrow cocked.

"Velma," Fred began, "Do you remember what Daphne's contribution to Mystery Inc. was?"

Velma thought for a moment, then shook her head.  "I don't believe she contributed anything."

"Exactly," Fred replied.  "She was always getting caught by the bad guy, ruining my traps, and was nothing more than a burden."

"What's the point?"

"She put up with all of it, because of me," Fred answered.  "I convinced her to join Mystery Inc.  She put up with all her clumsiness, all the villains, so she could be with me, and how do I repay her?"  He scoffed loudly, as he turned back to the window.  "I lose her."  He sighed loudly.  "God, I'm such a shit!  She should be the one who married, not me!  I've put her through so much, Velma, it just seems so unfair!"

When Shaggy entered Daphne's room, he expected her to be packing her things up again, like last time, or crashing about the room in a fit of rage.  However, when he approached her door, he heard crying.  

He knocked on her door, "Daphne?"  He called out softly, "Are you okay?"

"Please, Shaggy," came her sobbing response, "Go away."

Shaggy sighed, then opened the door, and walked on inside.  Daphne sat on the opposite side of the bed, facing the window, her head down, her face cupped in her hands.

"Daphne…" Shaggy started.

"What part of 'Go away,' don't you under stand," Daphne growled.

"Look," Shaggy hastily interrupted, "I can see you're in a lot of pain right now, so,"

"So why don't you go away?"  She snapped.

"Because you need to speak to someone right now."  He shrugged, "Maybe I'm not the best person, but I'm volunteering."  He spread his arms wide.  "So what's it gonna be?"

She sniffed, and then turned about to face him.  Her eyes were red and puffy, and her checks were wet.  "All right," she said softly, "you can stay."

"Daphe?"  Shaggy asked, "Why did you react that way?"

"Because," Daphne snapped, "He cheated me again!  I gave up my life for him, and he goes ahead and gets married to some… some… cheap stripped!"

"I don't think miss Jones is a stripper, Daphne," Shaggy said, as he rounded the bed to her side.  Daphne clenched her teeth and the phrase, 'Miss Jones.'

"That should've been me," she hissed.  "It was _supposed_ to be me!"  

"Well," Shaggy replied with a shrug, "Unless you figure out the secret of Tim travel, then it ain't gonna happen."  

Daphne spun around and cried out, "Shaggy that's not funny!"

"Wasn't intended to be," he replied, looking out the window.  "It was supposed to wake you up."

"What dose that mean?"

"Come on, Daphne," Shaggy said, sitting down beside her, "You're smarter than that.  Do you remember this morning, when I came and picked you up from the airport?"  Daphne nodded.  "Do you remember what you told me, when I back away from a relationship?"  Daphne nodded.  "You told me that I shouldn't spent the rest of my life moaning about something I never did!  Well, it seems to me that the shoes on the other foot!  You're good at giving advice, but not following it."

"Shaggy," Daphne moaned.

"Fred thought he'd lost you, so he wasn't going to spend the rest of his life sulking over the loss of you, so he found happiness, and so should you!"

"You're right Shaggy," she moaned, "I have been living in the past way too much."  She paused, as an idea came to her mind.  "Okay, Shaggy, on one condition."

"Name it."

"Invite that girl from the airport around for dinner tomorrow night."

"You mean Ellen?"  Shaggy was taken back.

"If I have to leave the past behind, you should too!  Invite her around."

"Uhh," Shaggy shrugged his shoulders.  "I don't think that's such..."  

"Shaggy!"  She said with a stern look.  

"All right," he said, holding his hands up in defence.  "I'll ask her around."

"And I'm going to make sure you do!"  She said, standing up, "Now excuse me, I need to go wash my face."

"Why did you do that?"  Shaggy asked, his face now held a stern look.  Daphne turned about and smiled at him.

"That, my dear Rodgers, was for deceiving me in the first place!"  Then, she was gone.

Shaggy turned to face the window, and dropped down on the bed.  "Man, a date!"  He muttered to himself.  He'd never been on a date before in his life.  How do you work a date?  What dose a girl want to do on a date?

Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he jumped of the bed, "Oh good God, I forgot!"  He rushed out of the bedroom, down the hall, and flew down the stairs.  The water in the pot was beginning to boil over just as he arrived in the nick of time.

"What's the matter?"  Velma asked from upstairs.  Lifting off the lid, Shaggy picked up two oven mittens and took the pot of the stove, pouring the water out into the kitchen sink.  

Then, putting the pot down, went to the kitchen door, and called out, "Dinners ready!"

**THE NEXT MORNING…**

The sounds of somebody rummaging through his fridge brought Shaggy back to reality.  He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and sat up of the couch, the blanket falling to the floor as he swung his legs out, and sat up, stretching and yawning.

He scratched under his armpit, and got up, heading for the kitchen.  Velma was rummaging through the fridge, looking for a jar of jam as Shaggy walked though the door.

"Morning," he muttered, heading for the coffee pot.  

"Morning," she repeated.

"Coffee?"  He asked, as he picked up the pot.

"Please."  She replied, finally finding the jam.  Shaggy set about making the coffee, jumping as the toaster beside him suddenly popped.

"Toast is ready."  He said.  Velma grabbed the two pieces and hurried them over to the cutting bord.  "How did you sleep last night?"

"Fine," she said, as she fished out a butter knife, "How about you?"

"When you spend most of your younger years sleeping in the back of a van, a couch is nothing."  He put the kettle on the stove, and started to wait.

The sound of somebody coming down the stairs made them both turn, just in time to see Daphne walk through the door.  "*Yawn* Good morning everyone!"  She said, as she came through.

"Good morning," Shaggy and Velma chorused.  Velma held up a piece of toast.

"Toast?"  She asked.  Daphne just shook her head, as he headed for the cupboard next to the fridge, and pulled out a box of Corn Flakes.

"Coffee?"  Shaggy asked.

"Oh, God yes!"  She replied, as she closed the fridge, cereal in one hand, and milk in the other.  "Where do you keep the bowls?"  Shaggy pointed to a door just below to her left.

"Hows Fred doing?"  Shaggy asked Velma.

"He's fine for the moment," she said, as she finished spreading some jam on her toast.  "However, I managed to get him an appointment with a chiropractor at 10:15, this morning."  They all glanced over at Daphne, who just pulled a face.

"So, what dose he want for breakfast?"

"I haven't asked him yet," Velma replied, heading for the table, "He's still asleep.  What time is it now?"

Shaggy glanced at his wristwatch.  "It's 8:03."

"Time to get moving then," Velma, replied as she bit into her toast.

"That's the beauty of being retired," Shaggy said with a grin, as the kettle started to boil.  "Not having to go to work at all."

"Ah-hem!"  Daphne said, and nodded with her head towards the phone.  Shaggy looked at her, then the phone, and back to her.  "Yes."  She said, nodding her head.

"Alright," Shaggy muttered, "I'll call her."

"And it's tonight."

"I know, I know."  Shaggy grumbled.  He poured the coffee, and went over to the pin bord on the right side of the fridge, and pulled off a piece of paper.  Then, walked over to the phone.

"What was that all about?"  Velma asked Daphne, as she swallowed a lump of toast.

"I finally got Shaggy to accept a life," she said with a smile.

"You mean he actually has a girl he can call?"  She asked, her eyes widening.

"Yeah, her names Ellen Yindle, she has a thing for Shaggy, I could tell from my meeting with her."

"How come I haven't met her?"

"She works at the airport, that's how I met her.  If I hadn't come by plane, I wouldn't have known she exists."

"And she's coming over here tonight?"

"That's what I hope, anyway."

"So, finally, Shaggy will have someone."  Velma smiled.  "So, what about you then, Daphne?"

"Not right now, Velma," Daphne muttered, "I'm not in the mode to go looking for love."

"If not now, then when?"  Velma asked.

"Don't push me, please," Daphne grumbled.  "I've had enough of people telling me that I should get a relationship.  My manager, my fans, my parents, and now my friends."  She looked over at the kitchen sink.  "Would you like to plunge the coffee?"

Velma got up and plunged the coffee, then poured one for Shaggy, one for herself, and one for Daphne.

"So, Daphne," Velma asked, as she sat back down, "What are your plans for the morning?"

"I don't know," she said with a shrug, "I did plan on seeing some of Seattle's sights, visit the space needle.  The tourist thing."

"I've herd that the Harbour's nice this time of year," Velma said.  "You could use some sea air, and who knows, maybe you'll find someone."

"I don't think so," Daphne said, sipping her coffee.  "I know that you and Shaggy are trying to get my mind of Fred, but getting a boyfriend is not the way I wish to handle it."

"Well, just go and play the tourist then," Velma said.  "I have to leave with Fred at 9:15, I can drop you off at the Harbour on the way."  Daphne thought about it.  "Go on," Velma encouraged her, "It'll give you time to think."

"Fine," Daphne said, "The Harbour it is."

**THE HARBOUR: A Two And A Half Hours Later…**

Daphne was resting against the wooden railing of the bord walk that overlooked the harbour waters.  Behind her, a young couple in their early 20's walked past, laughing, with their arms around each other.  Daphne turned away from the scene.

She glanced down at her reflection in the shimmering ocean, and sighed.

"Oh Fred," she moaned softly, closing her eyes.  "Why couldn't we have been together?"  She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears.

"A beautiful rose, for a beautiful lady!"

"Huh?"  Daphne lifted her head at the sudden voice that appeared from her left.  She opened her eyes to see a man in his late forties and six feet tall, standing next to her, holding a single red rose out to her.  He had light brown hair, with a light purple shirt, and tourney coloured trousers, with white sneakers.  But what was most intriguing about him, were his deep pricing blue eyes.  They were like the colour of tropical waters and almost as liquid.

She just stared at his eyes, almost lost in them.

"Well?"  He asked again.

"Oh!"  She said, breaking herself out of the trance.  "I'm sorry, I-I," she stuttered in confusion, then asked, "who are you?"

"Forgive me," the man replied, "My name is Manwell DeLasanger."

"That's Spanish," Daphne said, "Yet you sound American."

"My parents are Spanish," Manwell, replied, "Even though I was born in America, they insisted that I have a Spanish name."  He then held up the rose again.  "Well?"  He asked, a hopeful smile on his lips.

"Well what?"  Daphne asked.

"Well," Manwell replied, "Would you accept this rose from me?"  He held it closer to Daphne.

"Look buddy," Daphne said, "If I had a nickel for every time some stranger has tried that line on me, I wouldn't be wasting my time on the docks."

Manwell's face sagged, and the rose was lowered to his side.  "Sorry," he said, as he turned about, "I apologise for disturbing you."

Daphne watched him leave.  He looked really devastated, as he tossed the rose into a garbage bin.  Suddenly, she felt a wave of guilt flow over her.  Manwell had sunk his hands into his pocket and was trudging along, his head down.

"What am I doing," Daphne muttered, as he hurried after him.  "Hey," she called out.  Manwell turned about, a look of surprise on his face.

"Yes?" he asked.  

Daphne reached into the bin, and pulled out the rose.  It was still in perfect condition.  "I'm not doing anything right now, and I hear that the park is lovely during this time of the day."

Manwell smiled, as he fully turned around, and walked over to Daphne.  "Would you like some company then?"  He asked.

Daphne hooker her arm out and smiled back.  "I would love some, please."  Manwell hooked his arm around hers, and together they walked of down the bord walk.  

"What made you change your mind?"  Manwell asked.

"Oh," Daphne said with a pleasant sigh, "I just realised that I was taking my frustration out on you, something you don't deserve."

"Really?"  Manwell said, "May I inquire as to what made you frustrated in the first place."

"Oh, never mind," Daphne said, "It's… all in the past."  She cuddled closer to Manwell.  "I'm more concerned about the future."

"Really?"  Manwell said, "What a coincidence.  So am I."  He said, as he reached into his right pocket, and pulled out a pair of black coloured shades.  "So am I."  He repeated slowly, and then he chuckled softly, as he put the shades on, just in time to hide a red glair that suddenly flashed from beneath the shades for only a brief second. 


	4. Chapter 4

**TWO & A HALF HOURS AGO…**

"Ah-hem!"  Daphne said, and nodded with her head towards the phone.  Shaggy looked at her, then the phone, and back to her.  "Yes."  She said, nodding her head.

"Alright," Shaggy muttered, "I'll call her."

"And it's tonight."

"I know, I know."  Shaggy grumbled.  He poured the coffee, and went over to the pin bord on the right side of the fridge, and pulled off a piece of paper.  Then, walked over to the phone.  Picking up the phone, Shaggy headed into the living room.

The paper held the number to Ellen's mobile.  He'd used it during his time at the airport to contact her without using the loud speaker.  For some reason she'd never given him her pager number, she'd always preferred vocal or facial contact.  

He hesitated, unsure that this was the right thing to do.  He glanced around the corner, to see the backs of Daphne and Velma.  They were discussing things to do for the day.  He then left, and sat down on the couch, the phone in one hand, and Ellen's number in the other.

Should he?

He so much wanted to tell Daphne the truth.  But how do you tell someone, for the first time, that you're in love with them?

Daphne.

He let his head drop as he moaned in frustration.  Twice he'd had the opportunity to tell Daphne his true feelings, and twice, he'd chickened out.  VanGhoul was right; he still was that cowardly teen deep at heart.  Just like all those years ago, he never had the back bone to admit his true feelings.

He leaned back, sinking into the couch.  From the moment he'd first seen Daphne come of the plane, he'd wanted to tell her how much he really did feel for her.  However, time dragged on, and before he knew it, Ellen was there.  He moaned softly.  Daphne was right.  If he didn't move fast enough, he would never get another opportunity again.

He turned around at the sound of footsteps.  He saw Daphne walking up the stairs towards the second floor.  Obviously, she was going to get ready.  He looked back down at the phone again.

He glanced up at the stairs, but Daphne was gone.  Velma came out, and walked up the stairs.  

Damn it!  Why couldn't life be so much more simpler?

***

*PFRSSSHHHHHHHH*

Daphne jerked her arm back from the shower before the freezing water reached her hand. She took her rob from under her arm, and with a practiced toss, she threw it at the hook on the bathroom door. It caught on the hook and remained suspended off the floor. Steam rolled out of the shower as the water started to heat up.  She wiped off the quickly fogging mirror and looked at herself as she kicked off her slippers. The green-eyed woman in the mirror made a rude face, then laughed. 

She shook her head and stripped off the rest of her clothes, laying them in a neat pile on top of Shaggy's hamper basket.  She didn't dare place them in the basket, because of the smell coming from it.  Man, who often did Shaggy do the laundry around here?  

She grinned at herself, and let a small chuckle escape from her lips.  She couldn't believe the conversation that had gone on between her and Shaggy. That'd been twice he'd been there to comfort her.  If she didn't know any better, she'd swear that he was…

A quick rapping at the door derailed her thoughts.  "I would like to use the shower today, if you don't mind," Velma's voice called out.

"Alright," She responded.  "I just had to let the water heat up.  No need to rush!"  Then she turned toward the steaming shower.

Whatever notions of morning grogginess left in her mind where erased as she stepped into the shower. She leaned against the wall, delighting in the feel of the hot water enveloping her and washing away the anger.  Closing her eyes, she stepped forward and dipped her head into the water to let it run through her tangled hair.  Above the showerhead, Shaggy had installed a waterproof radio and she reached up to turn it on.  It was the ending music to Michael Jackson's 'Thriller'. 

*Speaking of thrillers…* 

She smiled to herself, remembering the adventures she used to have, so many years ago.

"Time to wake up, all you lazy bums!!" The DJ announced over the radio. "It's all request FRIDAY!!!! And our next song goes out to a very special lady in Seattle's Lower West side...Gina, I hope you're listening, cause this one's for you, doll."  A slow beat and some simple chords floated from the radio.  Daphne recognised the song as 'Truly, madly, deeply' by Savage Garden.

_I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy._

_I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need._

_I'll love you more with every breath, truly, madly, deeply do._

_I will be strong, I will be faithful, cause I'm counting on a new beginning,_

_A reason for living,_

_A deeper meaning, yeah._

Daphne reached up and turned to another station.  The last thing she needed was to be reminded of love.  'Wherever I may Roam' by Metallica broke clear of the static as she searched, and she grabbed her conditioner.  She didn't give too much thought to this new age music.  

*Oh well, it was better than that last one.*

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the shower wall, as she worked the conditioner into her hair.  Soon, the words of the song became nothing more than another background sound, as she stood there, the water soaking her skin, warming her body.

Suddenly, the sound of banging woke here with fright.

"Daphne?"  Velma's irritated voice called out.  "How long are you going to be in there!?!"

"Just a minute!"  Daphne called back.  Jesse.  She'd never had to share a bathroom for a long time, since from the time when she was on the road.  

She chuckled, as an old memory surfaced, that reminded her a great deal of what was happening.

***

"Daphne!?!"  Shaggy's voice called out as the banging on the door intensified, "How long are you going to be in there!?"

"Just wait your turn, Shaggy," Daphne called out, as she pulled her head out from under the shower head, "Beauty isn't made in five minutes you know.  It takes time."

"Yeah," Shaggy called out, "Well, by the time you're ready, I'll be ready, like, for a pension."

"I here ya knock'n but you can't come in!"  Daphne sang.  "Come back tomorrow night and try me again."  Despite the running water, she heard him grumble and leave.  She chuckled moderately, as she rinsed out the last of the shampoo, and gargled some water.

Finally, she came out of the shower laughing deviously at herself, she walked over to the bathroom sink, brushed her teeth, and combed through her hair, leaving it down to dry. 

The sound of dogs barking came to her ears as she walked back out of the bathroom.  "I guess that means they're up," Daphne said to herself.  She rolled her eyes and smiled to herself.  "And probably hungry, too."  She headed toward the stairs to her room as two brown furry figures with black spots bounded into the room, taking out the gangly man in the green shirt.

"Scooby-Doo," Shaggy cried out as the big Great Dane hit him square in the chest with his front paws, knocking him to the ground, and proceeded to lick at his face until Shaggy was covered in slobber.  "Like, Good Morning to you too, buddy," Shaggy replied between licks.

Scooby then raised his head, as he delivered his trade mark laugh.  Another shape then jumped up and landed on Shaggy's chest.

"And don't forget me!  Scrappy-Dappy doooo!"  He let his voice trail out in a long howl.

"Like keep it down guys," Shaggy warned, picking Scrappy of his chest, "There are other guests here you know."

"Yeah," Daphne added from the stairs, "You don't want to get us thrown out of here like the last hotel?"

"Ruh-uh!"  Scooby replied, sitting up straight and shaking his head. 

"Good boy," Daphne said, scratching Scooby behind the ear, "And if you continue to be a very good boy, I'll give you a special something later on."

"A Rooby snack!?"  Scooby cried out, as his tongue fell out of his mouth. 

"We'll just have to see," Daphne replied, scratching him again, and headed up the stairs.

"Ro boy!"  Scooby cried out, and jumped onto the couch, sitting up straight, and picked up a newspaper and started reading it like a gentleman.  Daphne couldn't help but laugh as she climbed the stairs to her room.

She could here Shaggy get ready for his shower, as she closed the door, and started to get changed.  As she did, she turned on the radio.  It was a man's voice, speaking with a deep tone, and he didn't sound like a DJ.

"My God," She whispered, "That's Richard Nixon."  She turned to face the radio, as he spoke.  What he said, she mostly didn't hear, only the next sentence he spoke, reached her ears. 

"We today, have concluded an agreement, to end the war, and to bring peace with honour, in Vietnam."  The President spoke.

"Wow," she muttered, pulling on her shirt, "It's finally over."  Eventually, the speech ended, and the DJ came back on.

"Wow, isn't that great news, folks," the man said, "Anyway, let's celebrate the good news, as we continue with the top 40 countdown.  This is Casey Kasem, and you're listening to…"

Daphne turned off the radio.  

She sat down on the bed, silent as a ghost.  Over.  The war wasn't the only thing that was over.  She shed a tear, as she gripped the bathrobe tight.

Fredrick.

It was just over a week, since Fred had left her to go to collage.  She was crying before she even realised it.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a soft knocking at her door.

"Daphne?"  Shaggy asked.  "Are you all right in there?"  She didn't answer.  "Daphne?"  Shaggy asked again.

"Sorry, Shaggy," Daphne squeaked.  "Please, come in."  The door clicked, and it slowly opened.  Shaggy's head appeared from behind the door, a look of concern on his face.

"Fred getting to you again?"  He asked.  She nodded.  "Do you feel like talking to me?"  He asked.

"About Fred?"  Shaggy nodded.

"What happened between the two of you?"

"Please, Shaggy," Daphne moaned, "I don't want to talk about that.  Anything but that."

"Well, how do you expect me to help you, then?"  He asked, throwing up his hands.  "I don't have psychic abilities."  Daphne looked into his eyes, then turned away.  "Jesse, Daphne," Shaggy said, putting his hands on his hips, if you don't feel like talking to me, then like, why did'ja invite me in for?"

Unexpectedly, she leapt forward, and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his chest.  Shaggy was stunned, and for a second didn't move.  Then, he slowly raised his arms, and comforted her in response.

*She needs you close,* he thought. *Don't pull away.*

Daphne held on for what seemed like an hour, before finally pulling herself away.  He looked down at her tear soaked cheeks, and smiled.  She smiled back.  

"Thankyou, Shaggy," she replied.  "Thankyou for always being there for me."

"I'll always be here for you Daphne," Shaggy said, and for a moment, their eyes locked in a passionate stare, and they leaned in closer towards each other's lips.  Suddenly, Shaggy blinked, and seemed a little flustered.  "After all," he quickly said, "That's what friends are for, eh?"

Daphne just nodded.

"I, I think I'll go and have that shower, now."  Shaggy quickly chuckled, and left the room.  Daphne just stood there for a few moments, before lowering her head, and heading over to the cupboard to collect her clothes.

***

Daphne sat on the bed in the room Shaggy had given her, drying her still damp hair with a towel.  She couldn't help but wounder.  Why?  Why didn't they kiss that time?

Then she found herself asking, what life would've been like if they had?  Would she still be alone?  What would Shaggy's life have been like.  What if, what if.  So many what ifs.  Life could've taken a much radical turn if that moment alone in the bedroom had developed into something much more.

Twice, in the small time since their reunion, they had the opportunity, and twice they'd let it pass by.  Why?  Why didn't Shaggy do anything?  More importantly, why the hell didn't she do anything?

Well, she was planning on doing so, but she screwed that up, by forcing Shaggy to call Ellen what's-her-name?  Now, why in God's name did she do that instead of going with her feelings?  It was the perfect moment, and she blew it.  

Just like Fred.

Her face screwed up with rage, and pounded the dressing table beside the bed with her right fist, making the small bed lamp jump into the air by an inch, knocking over the small framed photo that was beside it.

It fell over and landed face down with a 'Clack.'  She carefully lifted it up, and sighed when she saw that the glass wasn't cracked, and just as carefully, lowered it back down to lye face down again.  She turned to look at it again.  She'd put it face down last night, before going to sleep, so who put it back up?

Shaggy, most likely.  

The photo was of her, Shaggy, Scooby, and Scrappy, before Flim-Flam joined them.  Come to think of it, that photo was taken not long -- just a few days -- after that morning in the bedroom with Shaggy.

"Oh, what the hell," 

With a smile, she rushed out the door, and down the stairs.  As she got near the bottom, she could here Shaggy talking to somebody.

"Yeah, well, that's great!"  She heard him say.  She paused and looked around the corner.  She could see Shaggy sitting on the couch, talking into the phone.  "How about, let's say… 8?"

Daphne's hart sunk.  Shaggy had already called Ellen.  She would be coming around at 8 tonight.  Slowly, she trumped back up the stairs.  She hadn't been quick enough.  Once again, she'd done nothing, and not only had she lost Fred, but now, Shaggy.

Shaggy leaned back on the couch, completely unaware of what just happened behind him.  He frowned, and turned around, looking at the stairs.  He sworn he'd heard some one go up the stairs.  He shrugged and turned back to face the front.

  
"Well, it's been nice talking to you, Lisa," Shaggy said.  "And remember, tell Ellen to ring me tonight at 8 o'clock when she gets home from work.  I need to ask her something."  He paused while Ellen's roommate, Lisa Chapel, said something else.  "Yeah," he replied with a shrug, "I don't understand how she could leave her mobile switched off ether.  Thanks for taking my message.  Bye."

He hung up and placed the phone back down on the couch.  Well, he'd finally built up the courage.  And Ellen wasn't there.  He turned back to the stairs, and looked up at them.  

Was this the right decision?  He wanted so much to ask Daphne out, but he blew his chance.  She'd told him to ask out Ellen.  Did that mean she didn't feel the same why about him, that he felt about her?  He turned away from the stairs, as he looked down at his own feet.  How could she ever love him?

Way back when they were teenagers, Shaggy had always had a secret crush on Daphne, but he'd always been to shy, or scared.  Besides, she was in love with Fred back then.  Fred was hansom, tall, athletic, smart, and the captain of the football team.

And what the hell was he?  He was tall, but as skinny as a rake.  His hair was so untidy, he could never remember a day in his young adult years when he was clean shaven.  He had nothing to offer her.

Even when Fred left the group, and it was just him and Daphne.  He'd never tried anything with Daphne.  He scratched his chin.  Well, there was that one time just a few days after Fred had left, but he'd been too scared.  It'd all happened so fast that he didn't have time to realise what was happening, and he did what he'd always done in his life.

He chickened out.

And what had he done, 29 years later when he had the opportunity to set things right?  Nothing.  He'd chickened out once more.  Well, Daphne started it, subjecting that he call Ellen.  

But he should've stepped in and said something.  Anything.  But he didn't.  He was so taken back by what she'd said, that it dropped from his mind.

Ellen.

Daphne was also right about her.  He did feel something for her.  She reminded him so much of himself.  You could almost say she was a female Shaggy.  She did make him feel happy when they used to work together.

"Arrgh," he groaned, clutching his head.  "What the hell do I do, God Damn it!?!"  Ellen, Daphne, it was so confusing and frustrating.  He couldn't have both, one would have to the right girl for him.

So who was it!?!

He sighed in frustration, as he pulled out the book VanGhoul had given him.  "You know, I used to have a nice stable life, till I meet you."  He looked down at it, waiting a response.  None came.  "Well, what do you have to say for your self, huh?"  Still no answer came.  "What the hell are you anyway?"

He tried the buckle once more.  He still could not open it.  Was it even meant to open in the first place?  Maybe this thing was just one big fancy paperweight.

*Okay, next question,* Shaggy thought, *How am I going to let the guys know about you?*  He held the book up to his face, glaring at it's one word title.  *Question, how are they going to react to you?  What are they most likely going to do?*

He scoffed loudly, as he dropped his hand hold the book to his side.  He shook his head in disgust, and put it back inside his jacket pocket.  "God Damn it, look at me," he groaned, "I- I'm have a conversation -- with a book!"  He let his head drop into his hands, "Good God, how low can you sink."

So, was this what going senile was like?  He leaned back, and sunk into the couch.

Well, going senile or not, he would have to tell the guys the true nature the reunion sooner or later.  Still, VanGhould was right.  Something's never change, no matter how much we'd like them too.  He was still a scaredy cat at hart, and he would have a devil of a time, trying to build up the courage, epically since the last time he'd kept secrets resulted in the lose of his one and only broom, and the destruction of his kitchen window.

He turned to look at the door to the kitchen.  That reminded him, he'd have to get that fixed.

He picked up the phone, and walked into the kitchen to get the phone book to call a window repairman.

**TWO & A HALF HOURS LATER…**

"Keep the change, buddy," Shaggy told the man, as he saw him to the door.

"Thanks very much, sir," the man said, tipping his hat, then turned around, and headed out the front door to his truck.  Shaggy waved him goodbye, then closed the door, and headed back into the kitchen.  The new glass window sparkled in the sunlight, as it streamed through onto the kitchen sink.

Now all that was left was to replace the broom Daphne had destroyed.

Hopefully Velma was already solving that problem.  Just before she left with Fred and Daphne, there'd been a brief argument over who was going to be paying.  Shaggy had given her money, she had refused, telling him shed buy it with her own money.  It dragged on till Fred blared the car horn, and shouted out that they'd be late.  It ended with Daphne forking over the money, after all, she'd broken it, and neither Velma nor Shaggy were willing to complain anymore.

His eyes floated over to the three chairs at the table.  There was a small fold out camping chair to accommodate Shaggy, but that wasn't what was on his mind.

He lowered his gaze to the floor.  "I've got so many problems guys," he muttered, "I wish you were here with me now."

So when what sounded like a chicken with an electronic voice box, being strangled suddenly exploded, it was no wounder that Shaggy screamed.  After his hart rate fell down to it's normal pace, he realised it was the phone ringing, and he walked over and picked it up.

"Hello," he said into the speaker, "Norville Rodgers, speaking?"

"Rodgers," a womans voice said from the other line, "It's me, Lisa Chapel, Ellen's room mate."

"Oh, hi Lisa," Shaggy said, "What's up?"

"Well, for starts, I found out the reason Ellen's not answering her mobile, she's out of the country."

"Huh?"  Shaggy said,  "Come again?"

"Ellen's in Canada," Lisa said.  "She was called up to Vancover suddenly, and isn't going to be back for another two days."

"Really?"  Shaggy asked.  He scratched his chin in thought.  Was this a sign?  Was he destined to end up with Daphne?  

"Hello, Rodgers?"  Lisa's voice brought him back to reality.

*Better think fast Shaggy,* he thought to himself.  *This is it.  You're not going to get another chance again.  It's ether Daphne, or Ellen.*

"Yeah," Shaggy said slowly, "I'm still here."  He paused, then said, "Lisa…"

Yes?"  She asked.

Daphne, or Ellen.

"Disregarded my previous message," he blurted out.  "I-I'll talk to her when she gets back myself.  In person."  

"What?"  Lisa sounded a bit stunned.  "Well, okay."

"Thanks, Lisa," Shaggy said, "Bye."  He quickly hung up the phone.  He stood up tall and proud, and closing his eyes, breathed a deep sigh of relief.

He did it.  He finally did it.  He'd made a choice.

Daphne was the answer.

When she'd get back, he'd tell her the truth.  He'd been secretly in love with her, and that he still loved her now.  He wasn't too sure how she'd react, but he'd worry about that part when he came to it.  He felt proud with himself, and pulled out a beer, and drink in celebration.

"No more chicken Shaggy anymore," Shaggy replied between gulps.  He then went into the living room to watch some TV.

About half an hour later, he heard the sound of a car, pulling into the driveway.  That meant that Velma, Fred, and Daphne were home.  He got up, took another swing of the beer, and headed for the front door.  Time to confess to Daphne.

However, when he got to the front door, he didn't see his dark green '88 Ford.  Instead, he saw a light blue 01' model Mitsubishi.  He frowned, and slightly pushed open the front screen door.  

His eyes widened, as he saw Daphne climb out of the passenger's side door.  The driver's side door opened, and out came a man who looked hauntingly familiar.

But before he could contemplate the man's face, Daphne waved at him.  "Shaggy," she called out, "Come over here, I want you to meet someone."  Slowly, he exited the front door, and walked down to the driveway, and the car that was parked there, with its engine still running.

"Hey, Daphne" Shaggy said, "I thought you were coming back with Fred and Velma?"

"I was," Daphne said, "Til I met Manuel."  She turned to the man on the other side of the car.  "Manuel, this is a good friend of mine, Norville Rodgers."

"Pleased to meet you, sir," Manuel said, as he walked around the car, and gripped Shaggy's hand, and shook it hard.

"Likewise," Shaggy replied.  He couldn't help but glance down at his own hand when Manuel released it.  Was it just him, or did his grip feel like ice?  He rubber his hand, as he looked back up at the smiling man.

And why did he look so familiar?

"This may sound crazy," Shaggy said, "But, have we meet before?"

"Well, that all depends," Manuel replied with a shrug.  "Have you even been to the south west of Florida?"

"I've been to at least eight different locations in that state alone," Shaggy replied.  "But then again, that was just one in many trips all around the world.  Its possible one of those trips took me there."

"Maybe I'm someone you meet while down there, but only briefly."

"Yeah," Shaggy said with a shrug.  "That must be it."  Yet somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it wasn't.  "So anyway," Shaggy asked, turning to face Daphne, "What's this all about?"

"Oh, Daphne replied, "This is Manuel DelaSanger.  I meet him down at the docks, and decided to invite him around to dinner tonight."

"Oh," was Shaggy's only reply.  Unknown to all, his grip tightened on the beer bottle in his hand for a brief second.

"What time will dinner be ready?"  Manuel asked Shaggy.

"About some time after seven," he replied.  

"Okay, then," Manuel said, rubbing his hands together, "I'll be here at seven, then," then he winked at Daphne.  "See ya then."

"Bye."  She replied with a smile of her own.  She waved goodbye to Manuel as he pulled out of the driveway, then drove off.

"Not that it's any of my business," Shaggy said, watching the car until it vanished from sight, "But wasn't that little… well, sudden?"

"I'm not going to spend my life sulking over something I never did, Shaggy," Daphne replied walking past him towards the house.  "Say, when's Ellen coming around?"

Shaggy just stared at the grass beneath his feet.  "She's out of town for a few days," he replied, "But she said she'll be able to come over when she's free."

"That's great," Daphne said, smiling at him.  "I bet you two would make a lovely couple."  Then, she turned around and headed into the house.

"Yeah," Shaggy mumbled, as he slowly walked towards the house.  "Not as much as you and I would've."  He walked in the front door, and stopped, as he leaned against the door leading into the kitchen.  He glanced down at the beer bottle in his hand.  There was still some liquid left inside.

*Too slow again, Shaggy.*

Grunting in frustration, he threw the bottle into the food scrap bin next to the sink.  The plastic bag that ran lined the bin muffled the noise, as it landed right inside, but it did knock it over.  Shaggy ignored it, as he stormed into the living room, and sat down on the couch.

Upstairs, Daphne hurried into her room, and closed the door.  She then walked over, and sat down on her bed.  She looked over at the photo that was on the side of the bed.  

Someone had put it back up again.

Shaggy.  She walked over to it and picked it up, concentrating on the image of herself and Shaggy.

"I wish it could've worked out between us, Shaggy," Daphne said.  "I really wish it could."  But she'd been too slow, and in her anger for Fred, had pushed him away.  She'd blown her chance.

She placed the photo down, and then placed it face down.  It was time to move on.  Manuel seemed like a nice guy.  She stood up straight and tall; as her eyes were still locked on the photo frame, face down on the side table.

She wiped a tear away from her eye.  She couldn't keep dwelling in the past.  Time to move on.  Manuel was her future now.  Not with Fred.  And not with Shaggy.

She turned away, as she burst into tears.

Downstairs, Shaggy sat on the couch, staring at the TV.  'Another Day in Paradise' by Phil Collins was playing on a music cable channel.  He took another swing of the brand new beer bottle he'd gotten himself.

His own face was wet.  Streaked with tears.

***

Fred was doing some arcane sort of sit-up exercise when Shaggy walked past his door.

"Hey Fred," Shaggy said, as his voice trailed off in confusion.  "What the hell are you doing?"

"Back crunches," Fred replied as he came up.  "The doctor told me to do 'em."

"Oh," Shaggy replied with a slight nod, "Well, dinner will be ready in half an hour."

"Okey-dokey," Fred replied as he came back up again.  "Just give me a yell when it's ready."

Shaggy gave him another nod, and headed over to Daphne's room.  He knocked softly on her door.

"Enter," she called out.  Shaggy reached for the doorknob, but held back.  He didn't open the door. 

Instead, he just called out, "Dinner will be ready in 30 minutes."

"Thanks Shaggy," Daphne called out.  He lingered outside her door longer than was necessary, before heading back downstairs.  Velma was still watching TV when he came downstairs, and headed into the kitchen.

The vegetables were cooking in the pot, while the roast was cooking in the oven.  He dipped his finger into the gravy, and tasted it.  He 'Mmmmed' his approval, and gave it a stir, before checking on the wine, cooling in the fridge. 

The whole gang didn't have much of a reunion party last night, but this time, they'd really make up for it.  Shaggy was preparing the meal of a lifetime, to celebrate their return.  And if it was one thing Shaggy knew, was how to cook.

He turned to the kitchen table, and looked it over once more.  He'd dug out an old tablecloth, and a much larger table, and some more chairs.  He'd removed the good cutlery from storage, and placed some candles on the table.

They'd have to have another night like this again.  They'd all planed to go out on the town to a restaurant for their last night together, so they wouldn't have to fuss over dirty dishes, leaving them all for Shaggy to do when they left the next day.

Shaggy didn't mind, but they had insisted.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and Shaggy looked up over at the door.  The porch light had been left on, and looking out the window, saw a man in a neat looking navy blue jacket, with light cream trousers standing outside with a bouquet of roses.

Manuel… whatever, was here.

Placing the wine bottle back in the fridge, and opened the front door.  Manuel grinned at him in a way that made Shaggy feel uncomfortable.  "I guess these are for you," he said with a chuckle in his voice, holding out the flowers.

"Daphe!"  Shaggy called out, "Manual is here!"  Manuel made a face.

"Man-Well!  It's pronounce, Man-Well!"  He snapped, "Not Manual.  Man-Well!"

"Whatever," Shaggy said, as he stepped aside.  "Please, come in."

"Don't mind if I do," Manuel said, taking a huge step past Shaggy into the hallway between the kitchen and the living room.  Giving Shaggy a predatory wink, he then headed into the kitchen, and introduced himself to Velma.

Shaggy shuddered the moment he was out of sight.  Man that guy gave him the creeps.  Still, he wished he could remember where he'd met that guy before, and why he gave Shaggy bad vibes every time he came near him.  Something at the back of his mind was nagging at him.

He wished he knew.  It was so frustrating.

At that moment, Daphne came down the stairs, and into the living room.  She wore a purple short skirt, with a creamy silk long sleaved shirt.  Her hair hanging down but curled at the bottom.  Shaggy almost lost himself, gazing at her.  In 29 years, she was still as beautiful now, as she was back then.

His daydreaming was suddenly interrupted when Manuel came over and gave her the flowers.  She was delighted with them, and gave Manuel a quick kiss on the cheek.  Shaggy's own hand went to his cheek, and slowly drew it down his face.

"God," he hissed, turning away from the scene, and walked back into the kitchen, "I've got to stop this.  I-I'm turning into Daphne."  He could still remember the way she'd acted, angary, jealous with rage.  "She has Manuel now," he said with a sigh, "I'll just have to live with that."

"Live with what?"  Shaggy spun around with fright, at the sudden sound of Fred, standing at the doorway.

"Oh, Fred," Shaggy said, clutching his chest, "You scared me."

"Sorry," Fred said with a half smile.  "Still, you didn't answer my question.  What will you have to live with?"

"Oh," Shaggy said, looking around the kitchen for an escape, "Just… just about Scoob and Scrap, that's all," he said with a shrug, looking over at the table.

"They still are getting to you?"  Fred asked.

"Seeing the old gang together, it brings back memories of the good old days.  It still pains me when I think of them."  Shaggy wasn't lying then.  That part was true.  He looked over at the oven.  "The days I shared with Scooby an Scrappy were the best years of my life.  The fun I had with Scoob, cooking, eating, watching TV."  He chocked off as a tear rolled down his left cheek.

"Gee," Fred said in a soft voice, "I'm sorry, I should've asked."

"No," Shaggy said, whipping it away with his sleave.  "You were curious.  I would've been too."

"Scooby meant a lot to me too, pal," Fred said.  "We all loved that dog."

"What about Scrappy?"  Shaggy asked, shocked by the fact Fred had neglected him.

"Oh, come on, Shag," Fred said, "How many times did Scrappy get on your nerves.  Always running off, trying to beat the living tar out of every single ghost and ghoul were chased down.  How many times did he get into trouble.  Better yet, how many times did he get _you into trouble?"_

Shaggy could help but chuckle.  "Yes, I admit, he was somewhat pesky, and hyper-active, but…" He sighed, and his face turned serious.  "But you never got to know Scrappy like I did, towards the end."  The smile on Fred's face melted away as he realised what exactly Shaggy meant.  "As he grew older, and he started to lose quite a lot of his puppy hood.  He settled down, and became quite loveable."  He bit his bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears.  "He helped me out after Scooby left me.  He became my best friend, and was always there for me.  I just can't laugh at Scrappy anymore Fred.  Not after what he did for me.  I just can't."  

He turned away, and moved to check the vegetables.  Fred just nodded his head.  Even though his face was hidden, Fred was certain that Shaggy was crying.  

He felt like an idiot.  It was then, that Fred was finally reminded on how much time had really pasted.  He turned down the hallway, where he could see Velma, Daphne, and that guy with the Spanish name talking.  Things have most certainly changed for Mystery Inc.

God only knew, what the future had installed for them.

***

Shaggy called them all into the kitchen with a triangle.  He rang it three times, and then called out, "Dinner is served," in the best British accent he could manage.

Velma and Daphne forced out a few fake laughs, as everyone got up from the living room, and headed into the kitchen.

"Wow, Shaggy," Velma said, eyeing the table, and the roast dinner, "You really went all out for tonight."

"This is our big reunion dinner, guys," Shaggy said beaming with pride at Velma's complement.  "After all, it's been 29 years since we've all stood together like this.  It's a special occasion, for a group of special friends."

They were all seated at the table, while Shaggy began serving everyone there.  Soon, they were all talking, laughing, passing out jokes.  Just like the old times.  Fred wasn't the target of Daphne's wroth anymore, and that made it all, the better with no fights among them.

"Hey, Shaggy," Velma asked nursing her glass of wine.

"Yeah."

"There's one thing I've never been able to understand."

"What's that?"  He asked.

"You said you were retired at your age, 52."  Shaggy nodded.  "And you were head of the Customs department for 25 years?"  

"That's right," Shaggy replied.

"That means that you were 35 when you got the rank.  Weren't you a little young for such a position, and why were you retired so early?  I mean, most people are at least a decade or two older when they're finally put out to the pasture."

"Did you guys ever here of the Triad Drug Bust of '77?"  He asked.  They all shook their heads, except for Manuel.

"I remember that," he said, "They seized over 100 tons of Cocaine, didn't they?"

Shaggy nodded.  "You know your history, good," he turned to the others.  "Well, Me and Scoob were responsible for that bust.  We were state-wide hero's."  He looked up at the ceiling, remembering the celebration that'd been held in their honour.  "Well, because of that, I was rapidly promoted to serve under the then current Chief Customs Inspector.  A move many people in the higher achy didn't like.  Mainly because my promotion torpedoed their plans."

"Society is still corrupt even today," Manuel said with a shrug.  "You should see some of the problems we're having down in Florida."

"So what happened next?"  Fred asked.  

"Well, my boss, then went on vacation, leaving me in charge.  Two weeks later… he suffered a stroke.  He fell into a coma, and died a week later.  Because of my experience, and my position, I was catapulted into the position of Chief Customs Inspector.  That move angered many people higher up than me, but because of my record, and hero status, there wasn't a thing they could do about."

"So their anger feasted silently for many years?"  Velma asked.

Shaggy nodded slowly.  "After September 11, quite a lot of political shit hit the fan all over the country in not just airports, but all manors of transportation.  But the airports were hit the most.  My enemies used my age, and inexperience at lower ranking positions needed to run my job.  Lots of people were sacred, because a lot of people were getting blamed, and so, after many running battles with people I'd never even herd off, I was given only one option.  I was to be let go, and replaced.  It was forced retirement."

"Sorry, I asked," Velma said lowering her voice.

"Don't be," Shaggy said with a grin.  "By appointing Ellen Yindle, I once again torpedoed the ambitions of many people whom I disliked.  So really, in the end, it was old Norville Rodgers who got the last laugh."  He tossed back his head and gave a mocking laugh.

"Good for you, Shag," Daphne said.

"Yeah," Fred said, reaching across to give him a handshake, "Well done."

"It was nothing," Shaggy said, dismissing their praises with the wave of his hand.  "After all, it was like a witch hunt.  You just had to start a rumour, and it could explode into grossly exaggerated proportions."

"Well," Velma said, lifting her wine glass up, "I would like to propose a toast.  To Mystery Inc.  Together again, at long last."

"Mystery Inc."  They all chorused.

"Mystery Inc," Manuel said, raising his glass as well.  "Was that a club you guys had when you were kids?"

The gang all chuckled at that.  "No, not really," Fred said.  "We were a detective agency, solving mysteries back in the late 60's, early 70's."

"Wow," Manuel said, "Sounds like fun."

"It was," Shaggy said.  "We had the time of our lives.  Busting crooks in a mask.  All pretending to be ghosts to scare people away from some big treasure they were hiding."

"Those were the days," Velma said.

"Yeah," They all said at once.

"So," Manuel asked, "Why did you all decide to come back together again?  After such a long time?"

"If you'd been separated from the best friends in your life for a Generation and a half, wouldn't you want to see them again?"  Shaggy asked.

"So Fred," Manuel asked.  "How did you meet this girl that became your wife?"

Fred looked at Daphne, but she didn't do anything explosive, and then began his story.

"Well, I met her on the football field," he said, "I got in under a football scholarship, and she was a big football fan.  She came down to watch a game, and her brother and I were in the same classes together.  He introduced me to her, and the rest was history."

Everyone looked over at Daphne who just shrugged.

"I'm not going to explode, if that's what you're all thinking," She said, and ate some roast.  "I've accepted Fred's decision."

"Dose that mean you've forgiven me?"  Fred asked.

Daphne shook her head.  "No," she said, then with a smile, flicked some roast at Fred, hitting him just above the left eye.  It stuck there, and rolled down his face, falling off onto his own plate.

"Yuck," he muttered, as he reached down to his own plate, and flicked a carrot at Daphne, scoring a hit on her right cheek.  She stuck her tongue out him, while Fred made a face back at her.

"All right, enough of that, children," Shaggy said, "My foods for eat'n, not fling'n."  

"She started it," Fred said, pointing an accusing finger at Daphne, who made face back at him.

"Fred," Shaggy warned, do you want me to seat you in the corner?"  They all laughed.

"So Velma," Shaggy asked, when they'd all settled down, "How did you meet, What's his name?"

"Mathew?"

"Yeah, him."

"Well," Velma began, "Like I said, it was when I went to work at NASA.  I was assigned to the satellite program.  The one major thing the two of us had in common were our degrees in Mathematics.  Working on the program, was were I met Mathew.  He was smart, funny, and he loved mystery novels."

"It's a match made in heaven," Fred said with a smile.

"We started up swapping books, then reading together at the library.  Those later turned into dates."  She looked down at her ring finger with her wedding ring on it, sparkling in the candlelight.

"Wow," Daphne muttered, "That sounds so romantic."

"Well, I'm happy for you," Manuel said, "I'm glad that you were able to find true love like that."

Daphne just nodded in silence.

The evening lasted long into the night, with wine passed around the table.  The gang reminisced on old adventures, old friends, and their past activities when they were on their own.

But as the night passed on, Shaggy couldn't help but shake the strange feeling he got from Manuel.  He didn't like the guy.  Was this because he'd moved in on Daphne?  Or was it the chill he sent down his spin every time he locked eyes with him?

And his choice of conversations was rather peculiar.  It was as if he was reminding Daphne of how alone in the world she really was.  Getting Fred and Velma to talk of their happy lives in marriage.

Why?  What was his goal?

Silently, he eyed Manuel from across the table.

*I'm going to keep an eye on you, Manuel Dela -- whatever!*  He thought to himself.  *And I'm going to find out just what you're really up too.*

***

Later that night, Manuel and Daphne asked to be excused.  They went outside to be alone together.  Outside on the porch, Manuel led Daphne over to the three rocking chairs, and sat down.  Daphne sat down next to him, and they both looked out at the night sky.  Overhead, the bug zapper occasionally sparked, while the porch light above the front door drew the rest of the night's bugs.

"Thankyou for giving me a wonderful time tonight," Daphne said as she gazed up into the sky, at the stars.

"It was nothing," Manuel said, looking up also.  "That morning, when I saw you on the docks, I realised you looked very depressed and lonely."  He turned towards her.  "It made me think of my last wife."

"You've been marred?"  Daphne asked, looking across at him.

"Once," Manuel said.  "A long time ago.  She was beautiful, like yourself."

"Stop it," Daphne said with a smile.

"No, I mean it," Manuel replied.  "She was the pretties thing you ever saw.  She was perfect for me, as I was for her."  He shook his head as a smile formed on his lips.

"So what happened?"  Daphne asked.

"We…" he paused slightly, "We didn't exactly see eye to eye on certain things."  He started to twiddle his thumbs.  "I wanted to follow one path, she wanted to follow another.  There was a fight.  And…" He gave a small shrugging motion.  "We never saw each other again.

"What was her name?"  Daphne asked.

"Isabella," Manuel replied.

"Another Spanish American?"  Daphne asked.

"Yeah," Manuel said with shrug, "You could say that."  He then reached across and grasped Daphne's hand.  "But now, I have a second chance."

Daphne glanced down at his hand, on hers.  Then, she turned around her hand and clasped his.  "I could use some happiness in my life, after all the pain I've been through."  Daphne spoke softly.

"Will you let me be that happiness?"  Manuel asked, leaning across, his face just inches form her own.  "Please?"

Daphne was silent, while she looked into Manuel's eyes.  Those deep pricing blue eyes.  She lost herself in the tropical waters of his almost liquid eyes.  "Yes, Manuel," she said with a small smile.  "I will."

Manuel grinned.  His mouth threatened to split open from end to end.  "Thankyou, Daphne Blake," he said, grasping her hand with both of his and holding onto it tight.  "You have made me a very happy man!"

"You make me feel happy," Daphne replied, her eyes still locked on his.  She was attracted to those eyes.

"Tell me that you love me, Daphne."  He asked dreamily.

"I love you, Manuel."  She replied, her voice slightly slurred.

"Would you do anything for me?"  He asked, leaning closer to her lips.

"Anything."  She repeated in a whisper.  

Manuel leaned closer still.  "I need something.  Something that only you can give me, Daphne Blake."

"Anything," She whispered again, her face showed submission.  

"There is a book.  I need that book, if we are to be truly happy, my dear."

"Book."  Daphne repeated.

"However, it belongs to Shaggy," his voice melted Daphne like the warm rays of the sun on snow.  "Will you get me that book?"

"Shaggy?"  Daphne asked.

"Daphne," Manuel said, his voice much more firmer, his grip much more tighter, "I love you now, not Shaggy, and not Fred.  Manuel."

"Manuel," She repeated softly.

"Will you get me that book?"  He asked again.

There was a hesitated silence.

"Yes," She stated.

"Thank you Daphne," He replied.  "We can truly be happy, you and me.  Till the end of time."  Then he kissed her, passionately.  His arms wrapping around her shoulders, and hers, did the same.

**My God…**

**What has Daphne gotten herself into??**

**Who will Shaggy chose as his love???**

**And the mystery of Manuel DelaSanger is finally revealed!!!**

**All in the next chapter, of HOW FEW REMAIN!!!**


End file.
